Where I Belong
by Hobbsy3
Summary: "You have been given another chance, Thorin Oakenshield, to fulfil your quest. Do not let old hatreds destroy everything and everyone you love." 60 years after the Battle of Five Armies, when the ring has been destroyed and peace is returning to Middle Earth, a storm brings with it a chance for a company to retrace their steps and reclaim their lives. Expect angst, action family.
1. Chapter 1: Rebirthing

**My first ever Hobbit fanfic, any of you out there that like CSI, that's where I usually am! To anyone reading ****_The Light Behind Your Eyes _****and/or ****_Your Life Over Mine, _****they are not forgotten, I just wanted to try something new as well :P **

**As any of my readers know I name chapters and stories after songs, and ****_Where I Belong_**** is by one of my favourite bands, Dead by April. ****_Rebirthing _****is by a band called Skillet if anyone woders/cares. **

**This story is based on second chances. Everything has happened (more in context of the films as I have read the books but not for a while and I know the films better) up to Merry, Pippin, Sam and Frodo returning to the Shire. **

**For this story to work, Frodo's age is more like his age in the film, but Kíli and Fíli are still younger than Ori. **

**I think that's all you need to know, I shall let the rest (hopefully) explain itself! Action/angst is my forte, so though this is introductory that will start next chapter hopefully. **

**Oh, and I own nothing. **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter One # Rebirthing #**

_"My path to light is gone, my place to rest_

_(I saw it all so clear, the dream of my life do appear)_

_To finally see it!_

_All my life, _

_Awaiting this,_

_ I live my life _

_For this moment, _

_And now I see myself as part of it all _

_(They are as one)" – Dead By April, Where I Belong_

Lighting crackled down from night sky, illuminating the buildings of Rivendell against the suffocating darkness of the thick black clouds.

Elrond was uncomfortable, storms of such magnitude were rare in Rivendell, and the clouds never clung so close to their roofs. He stepped back from the thunderous rain and began to walk the corridors of his home carefully.

He smiled as his came across Bilbo Baggins, his permanent guest. The hobbit's face was cobwebbed age, and his hands looked like maps for all the wrinkles. His face, however, now showed youthful irritation.

"Something wrong?" Elrond asked his friend kindly.

Bilbo looked up at him with irritation. "The blasted weather interrupted my thoughts."

"Then let us hope that the blasted weather will pass soon." Elrond nodded with a smile.

Bilbo sighed in irritation as the lighting once again disturbed his thoughts. He was trying to put into words stories he had heard from Frodo, but every time an idea fluttered into his head it was chased out by thunder or lightening or even an increase in the strength of the rain.

"Oh, it was on the tip of my tongue!"

With no warning, he remembered Radagast the Brown, and coming upon him on his adventures with the dwarves, which instantly threw him into a moment of sorrow.

He had been deeply grieved when he had learnt that Balin, Ori and Óin had died in the mines of Moria. With Thorin, Fíli and Kíli long dead, that only left seven other dwarves remaining of their company; Dori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Dwalin and Glóin.

He took his pipe in his hands, which had started to shake regularly with age.

He frowned, the smothering humidity in the air was making it impossible for him to light his pipe. He took his walking stick and hobbled into the courtyard, feeling a strange yearning dragging him into the open air. Within moments the rain soaked him not only to the skin, but _through _the skin, freezing his heart with water colder than ice.

Elrond turned as a strangled cry emitted from the courtyard. His eyes widened as a bolt of lightning swerved around tree and stone to strike the hobbit in the chest.

"Ai!" he cried in shock as a white fire engulfed Bilbo Baggins for more than a minute, before dropping him in a heap on the floor.

Immediately the storm ceased, the clouds unfurling from their positions mere metres from the ground to disappear into the sky, leaving it bluer than blue.

Elrond walked forward cautiously as the still, unburned, form of the hobbit began to breath. He stopped in his tracks as the white hair thickened and darkened and curled into thick brown locks, as they were when he first met the hobbit.

Bilbo felt a pounding in his head. He pushed himself up from the floor, expecting to use a lot more strength than he actually needed. He blinked, and the blurred vision he had suffered from for the past few months disappeared. Despite his soaked clothes he felt quite dry, and suddenly the clothes themselves were baggy, not tight as they had been moments before. He ran a hand over his face and frowned, finding less wrinkles than he expected.

He looked up at Elrond who looked even more surprised than when Pippin and Merry had revealed their hiding places in his council the previous year.

"Bilbo?"

"Lord Elrond…" he stammered. "W-w-what is happening?"

Elrond scrutinised the shaking hobbit. This was no illusion. The last sixty odd years had fallen from Bilbo's face, from his hands… Time had fallen from him. Realisation dawned upon him and the words fell from his lips. "The Blessing of the Ancients…"

"I don't understand…" Bilbo stammered.

"You will." Elrond insisted, before shouting out orders to his kin who had not yet left for the Grey Havens.

Bilbo stood in shock among the household of Elrond which instantly burst to life.

"My lord?" an elf approached Elrond.

"I must speak to Mithrandir."

"He just arrived." The elf nodded.

"Bilbo, come." Elrond ordered, and the hobbit staggered over, unused to having strength in his legs. The moment the wizard saw Bilbo, he sucked in a deep breath.

"It is exactly as I thought…"

"What, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, staring from face to face in confusion.

"My dear hobbit, you have been blessed, with the Blessing of the Ancients."

"What does that mean?" Bilbo asked, worried about the phrase he had heard twice in a row.

"It will be explained to you, Bilbo Baggins, but first you need to ride as quickly as possible to-"

"Bag End…" Bilbo whispered. "Gandalf, I must get to Bag End!"

"Why?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

"I…I don't know, I just _have _to." Bilbo insisted.

"It's already taken hold of him." Elrond noted.

"That is good news, Bilbo. And yes, Bag End is precisely where you should be, within a few days if at all possible." Gandalf insisted.

"Days?" Bilbo frowned, considering the week long ride.

"You will ride with me, Bilbo Baggins, and we should get there soon enough."

"Why, Gandalf?"

Elrond smiled. "If he explained now, you would be late for your own meeting."

Bilbo was given barely enough time to change his clothes before Gandalf ushered him to the elvish stables and lifted him up onto Shadowfax.

Within the hour they were speeding through the forest, at speeds Bilbo didn't think possible. Much to Gandalf's joy, they reached the edge of the shire by dawn of the following day. Even as they rose, black clouds seemed to follow them, and by the time they reached the Shire's outskirts they were coming closer. To Bilbo's utter surprise, several familiar figures were also on the road, mounted on stout ponies.

"Gandalf!" Dwalin cried in delight as they saw the wizard come into view. Nori, Dori, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur all drew their ponies to a halt, looking very relieved at the sight of the wizard. "Perhaps you can explain this madness to us!"

"Madness?" Gandalf asked, though he already had a very good idea of what Dwalin spoke of.

"Aye. Not two weeks ago a great storm passed over the Lonely Mountain, and the seven of us were drawn outside. The lightning stuck us all, and it was as if all of the years that passed since we journeyed to Erebor were no longer upon us." Dwalin explained. "We felt as if we had to arrive at Bag End, but we had no idea as to why. We were hoping that someone there could provide us with answers."

"Not there, Master Dwalin, but I will provide you with the answer, once we reach our destination." Gandalf nodded.

"It seems that you've had the same luck, Bilbo!" Nori cried with a smile, noticing the hobbit for the first time.

"Luck? Is it luck, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked.

"That depends on how you look at it. Do you think Frodo will be happy to see you?"

"I should hope so." Bilbo paused. "Though he might be a little surprised. I looked a lot older, _felt _a lot older the last time I saw him."

"We must press on." Gandalf insisted, staring at the gathering storm clouds. "We _must _reach Bag End before the storm."

"Or what?" Bilbo frowned, worry for Frodo filling his heart.

Gandalf made no reply, other than to flick Shadowfax's reigns.

"Gimli was right…" Glóin grumbled, remembering his son's telling of the tale of Gandalf's fall and subsequent return to Middle Earth. Gimli had explicitly told his father of his feeling that 'the new Gandalf is even grumpier than the old one!'

The tired ponies were driven by the aura of Shadowfax as they raced the coming storm to Bag End.

As they drew closer, the hobbits of Hobbiton were starting to grumble themselves about unnatural weather and unnatural strangers. None had yet recognised the cloaked hobbit as the much loved (and much distrusted) Bilbo Baggins.

It wasn't until they had almost reached Bag End when two cloaked hobbits, tall for their kind, stood in the middle of the Road, blocking their way.

"And where do you think you're going, dragging such horrible weather with you?"

"Meriadoc Brandybuck," Gandalf raised an eyebrow. "You do not surely think that I brought this weather?"

"Well, he may not but I do." The younger, shorter of the two removed his hood, glaring at Gandalf with stormy eyes. "And I don't like it. I do believe, Gandalf that it is your duty to provide fireworks, not thunderstorms."

The dwarves were all shocked, but Gandalf laughed warmly. "Hello, Pippin. I supposed you journeyed the whole of last year with your face hidden and your ears closed if you still believe that fireworks are the extent of my skill?"

"Naturally." Pippin played along, finally cracking a smile.

"We are travelling to Bag End, to answer your question, Merry." Gandalf smiled.

"We guessed as much." Merry removed his hood. "Where else would suspicious visitors be travelling to?"

Bilbo laughed, and the young hobbits jaws dropped open.

"Bilbo?" Merry cried.

"Yes, it's me." Bilbo shrugged casually, quite enjoying the surprise the two hobbits displayed.

"How is…you're…what – Gandalf?" Pippin stammered.

"If you wish, you may come with us, Master Pippin and receive your explanation." Gandalf offered.

Very tempted, the two young hobbits glanced at each other. "Does Frodo know you're coming?"

A crackle of thunder interrupted Gandalf's reply. "We must make haste, my dear hobbits."

"You're running _from_ the storm?" Merry guessed.

"As usual you are correct, Master Brandybuck." Gandalf smiled fondly. "If you are coming, do try to keep up."

Gandalf smiled, and the two grinned at each other, before chasing the now speeding horses and ponies up the hill.

They reached Frodo's door minutes after the horses, just as the dwarves were knocking on the door.

A shocked Frodo answered, but he was much happier to accommodate the company than Bilbo had been.

When he saw his uncle, he froze, glancing at Gandalf for a moment before frowning. "_Bilbo?" _

"My dear boy…" Bilbo smiled, but it looked wrong to Frodo. Even as a young hobbit, he could barely remember his uncle looking that young. Regardless he smiled and hugged Bilbo tightly.

"What is happening, Gandalf?"

"We were promised an explanation!" Nori added.

"How about a drop of tea, Frodo?" Gandalf asked. "Do you mind if we settle in the dining room?"

"Not at all, there's more than enough room." Frodo insisted, making sure everyone was comfortable.

Finally, Gandalf started talking.

"In the First Age, a group of people unlike any others inhabited Middle Earth, called the Ancients, in the Common Tongue. They did not remain here long, but while they did they lay out complicated spells that linked the peoples of Middle Earth together. Their oldest spell was the only one to linger for more than an age. It was the cause of this storm and is known as the Blessing of the Ancients."

"That is what you and Lord Elrond said in Rivendell. What is it?" Bilbo asked.

"I was just getting to that, Bilbo." Gandalf looked amused. "A white fire caused by a black storm, a fire that devours age. The Blessing comes to people that the Ancients deemed worthy of a second chance."

"A second chance at what?" Bofur interrupted.

"Well, Bofur, that would depend upon the group it chose. It once blessed a fellowship of men who were trying to defeat a pack of orcs who had murdered their kin. They returned fifty years after they failed, and most succeeded in their second chance. The last occurrence was over four hundred years ago."

"We're fit of a second chance? At what?" Dwalin asked.

Gandalf sighed. "It was foretold by the elves that your company would receive a second chance at the quest of Erebor."

"But we succeeded." Dori frowned. "Do we need a second chance?"

"It is not the quest itself you are being offered the chance for. It is the belief of the elves, and of me that the choice is being offered for the mistakes and failures of after the quest, of the greed and distrust that led to the Battle of Five Armies." Gandalf's words bowed many heads.

"What happens when the storm hits us, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked, worriedly glancing out of the window at the clouds that drew ever nearer.

"Well, this is the place where the quest truly began, as it is where the last member of the company is recruited. The Storm is the messenger of the Blessing, and it began with those furthest away. It brings with it the final members of our company."

Bilbo hardly dared to breathe. "What do you mean? Gandalf?"

"I mean that-"

Thunder like none of them had ever heard before crashed through the air, a million boulders crashing down a collapsing mountain. Lightning electrified the entire Shire, lighting up hill and house, and engulfing everything in the same white fire that had come upon Bilbo and the others.

Then, in seconds, it was over, and a silence befell the Shire.

"Gandalf…" Pippin whispered.

"It is quite alright, Pippin." Gandalf's voice was rough. "The fire cannot touch anyone in the Shire. It was here to deliver the last part of the Blessing, and that is why we had to be here, now. Let us go outside."

"Outside?" Merry raised an eyebrow, but the dwarves and Bilbo followed Gandalf. Pippin needed no further convincing and followed them out of the door.

Merry and Frodo glanced at it each before following them out of the door.

Gandalf let out a soft sigh as he stared at what had fallen in the front garden of Bag End. Tears brimmed in the eyes of several dwarves.

"You call this a Blessing, Gandalf?" Dwalin asked tightly, staring at the body of his brother, Balin, next to the bodies of Ori and Óin, and of Thorin, Kíli and Fíli.

Pippin swallowed. It was difficult just to stand there, with waves of grief coming from the others. It was one thing to have seen the long dead bodies of long dead dwarves in Moria, but it was quite different to see them as if they had died only the previous hour, blood still on their clothing, their faces…

The darkness in the clouds seeped away and they became as white and fluffy as snow, a light rain sprinkling like diamonds from the sky.

The only ones it seemed to touch were the lifeless dwarves on the ground. It soaked through their skin and the others held their breath.

Ori twitched.

Eyes widened as Fíli moaned and Óin groaned, as Balin stretched and Thorin sighed.

"What devilry is this illusion?" Glóin refused to let himself believe what he saw as Óin opened his eyes.

"It is no illusion, Master Glóin. It is the Blessing." Gandalf muttered.

Thorin was first to open his eyes. He blinked, confused. "Gandalf?"

"Welcome back, Thorin Oakenshield."

As the others around him opened their eyes, Thorin sat up with a frown. His whole body shook.

"I thought…"

"That you were dead? You were, Thorin. For sixty long years you have slept."

Balin blinked, remembering falling in Moria. "How is this possible?"

"The Blessing of the Ancients is upon you." Gandalf smiled. "You have been granted a second chance to fulfil your quest and to carry out another."

Thorin shook his head, remembering the last moments of the battle, remembering his sister-sons falling in front of him.

"Fíli, Kíli!"

Fíli coughed from the floor shuddering with painful memories. "Thorin?"

They each turned to the only dwarf who had not stirred.

"Kíli?" Fíli reached out weakly to his brother.

With an almighty yawn, Kíli stretched his arms out and Thorin laughed breathlessly.

"I cannot believe this, Gandalf…"

Gandalf smiled, and even Frodo, Merry and Pippin were strangely happy. "I can hardly believe it myself, but rest assured, it is true."

"If sixty years have passed as you say, why are none of you older? And who are these strangers?" Thorin asked as they began to sit up.

"The Blessing hit us all." Dwalin explained as he began to understand. "While we lost age, there wasn't much of it for you to lose. I'm sure Gandalf will explain it all later."

"And this is Frodo, my nephew and my heir and his friends Peregrin 'Pippin' Took and Meriadoc 'Merry' Brandybuck." Bilbo introduced the younger hobbits who all felt like grinning idiots. They had all been raised on stories of the Quest of Erebor, and of Thorin and his company, and they had grown with Bilbo's quiet grief of friends he lost, so they were elated for him that this strange thing had happened.

"Come inside, my friends," Gandalf instructed. "Eat, drink, and I shall explain what must be done next."

There was much shuffling and helping of people to their feet.

As Frodo began raiding his own pantry for enough food, Merry and Pippin became useful, opening up the bags they were carrying to reveal fresh fruit and vegetables.

There was a muffled silence as dwarves who hadn't breathed in years began to eat and drink.

"How do you feel?" Gandalf asked the entire company gently.

"Strange." Fíli was first to reply. "I don't know how I feel."

"That is to be expected, Fíli. You have been 'asleep', as such, for a very long time. " Gandalf said comfortingly. "And in that time, the world has changed. Many things have passed since the Battle of Five Armies, and even since you, Balin, fell in Moria."

A sudden thought churned Kíli's stomach. "Gandalf? Our mother, is she…"

"She's doing well." Dwalin smiled at the youngest dwarf. "I will not tell you that grief was not hard on her, and for many years she has suffered. But she is strong, and she has survived. Though now she is getting old, laddie."

Kíli frowned. "How many years did you say passed?"

"Sixty one." Bilbo noted.

Kíli's frown deepedned and he was silent.

"Gandalf?" Fíli asked quietly, looking at his brother. "Did we really…die?"

"It will take some getting used to. Believe me. But you will get used to it. " Gandalf's voice was gentle, and he noted that Kíli and Fíli were having the most difficulty coming to terms with everything. "It will not help that you will have no memory of anything that happened after your death, but you have a chance to _live _now. And you have a chance to be free."

"Well, I certainly feel better for eating." Balin announced.

"And so you should." Gandalf nodded. "But I must warn you, this does not come without a price."

Thorin paused. "What must we do?"

"Retrace your steps to Erebor."

"I feel there is more to it than that." Thorin pressed, and Gandalf nodded.

"Unfortunately yes. In order to ensure that you are worthy of the Blessing, it will have raised several of your enemies, which ones I do not know." Gandalf sighed. "And you have an extra task to do in accordance with the Blessing, as pointed out by the involvement of the elves."

Thorin tensed. "What do you mean?"

"Well the very fact that they foretold anything about this Blessing shows that they are somehow tied into your mission. And it has become very clear to me what you must do."

"And what would that be?" Thorin asked, his voice low.

"Rekindle the old alliance between dwarves and elves." Thorin began to interrupt but Gandalf held up a hand. "This is no longer about pride, Thorin Oakenshield! Should you fail to complete your mission within two years, you will be deemed unfit for the Blessing and you will disintegrate into ash, in the order of which you first departed this earth! If you do not wish to watch Fíli and Kíli die once more I suggest you do not repeat the mistakes of the past. Forgiving and forgetting are two very different things. But the last part of your mission needs not be worried about now. You can worry about that later."

Thorin sighed angrily. "Bilbo is coming with us, I take it?"

"If he wishes to remain in one piece, then yes." Gandalf nodded. "There are two others who I suggest should join the company who could meet us in Rivendell. And you went there, against your will or not, the last time you attempted your quest so go there once more you must."

"Who are these companions?" Thorin was suspicious.

"One of them is Gimli, Glóin's son."

Glóin couldn't help but swell with a little pride.

"And who is the other?" Thorin asked.

"Legolas, son of Thranduil."

"Son of Thranduil?" Thorin's eyes burned. "Do you jest, Gandalf?"

"The two of them are close friends, Thorin and they have reached an understanding that will help you later." Gandalf insisted.

Thorin inhaled angrily. Part of him would rather die once more than journey with the son of the elf that betrayed his people.

Then he looked around. At Dwalin and Glóin, and Nori and Dori, and Bifur, Bofur and Bombur.

He looked at Ori and Óin and Balin.

And he looked at Kíli and Fíli.

Gandalf was right. He would not watch his sister-sons die again.

"So be it."

Gandalf smiled. "Merry, Pippin, do you fancy making yourselves useful?"

"Always." Merry grinned happily.

"Will you take the road to Rivendell and inform Lord Elrond that Thorin and company will be arriving in a while, and that it is my will that they should be joined there by Legolas and Gimli?"

"Right away." Pippin nodded with a smile.

"I will go too." Frodo smiled, wanting to be of use. "If you leave these two alone on the road, who knows where they will end up."

"Very good." Gandalf smiled. "As for us, we will rest here, with your leave of course, Frodo, and then journey on in the morning."

Frodo smiled warmly. "Make yourselves at home."

As the sun rose the next morning, Thorin woke.

He walked outside and joined Gandalf on the bench in the garden of Bag End.

"So it was not a dream?"

"No…" Gandalf nodded.

Thorin sighed. Having slept he felt stronger, ready to go and to do what must be done. "This new quest…will we have to retrace our footsteps exactly?"

"Not exactly, but as closely as we can." Gandalf nodded.

"We fell prey to greed, Gandalf. That was our downfall." Neither looked at the other as they spoke. They both stared at the rolling hills of the peaceful Shire.

"Yes."

"It must not happen again." Thorin sighed. "Dain is ruling Erebor, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Then how will he react to our return?"

"That is yet to be seen." Gandalf admitted, turning at last to Thorin. "While there is much that you know now about this journey, there is just as much that none of us know."

"It may kill us once more."

"It may."

Thorin sighed deeply. "On the battlefield, seeing Fíli and Kíli fall before me…I told myself that it was my fault. That they were too young to come. We had told Gimli that he could not come, but he was not much younger than Kíli, by the count of our people."

"Now is not the time to dwell on such thoughts. They are brave, Thorin. They are loyal. And now you all have a second chance. Each and every one of you."

"Then we should leave as soon as possible."

As they spoke, dawn warmed the gentle landscape of the Shire, gleaming with its promises of new hope and new life.

**Sorry that it's really long and a little waffly, that won't always be the case, and I'm sorry for any OOCness, this is my first Hobbit fanfic like I said :P**

**Drop a review if you're interested/have any comments/critiscms :P**


	2. Chapter 2: When We Were Young

**Wow, that was a great response for chapter one, thanks! J I hope very much that this chapter is not a let down. **

**Just a quick note, I have no idea about dwarven ageing etc, and I researched for a while so I am going with what I feel fits best. This chapter is rather Fíli/Kíli/Thorin FAMILY related, this story will focus on others as well though. **

**Also, there will be no slash, or other romance in this story, sorry to any who wanted any :(**

**MINOR POINT : Going with Frodo's age in the film he seems very young, but Merry is younger and Pippin is the only one not of age, so I'm just going to write Frodo as about 36 in hobbit years for the cohesion of this story.**

**This chapter is named after When We Were Young, by Take That, as is the extract from the beginning. That, and the Hobbit, I do not own.**

**Read. Enjoy. Review.**

**Chapter Two # When We Were Young #**

"When we were young the world seemed so old

Careless and cold

We did what we were told in our lives

When we were young

Had the world by the tail, good would prevail, star ships would sail

And none of us would fail in this life

Not when you're young

We were drawn to whoever could keep us together

And bound by the heavens above

And we tried to survive

Travelling at the speed of love

Wooaaah when we were young

When we adored the fabulous

Wooaaah when we were young

We were the foolish fearless

Never knowing the cost of what we paid

Letting someone else be strong

Wooaaah when we were young" –Take That, When We Were Young

_"NO!" he screamed as Thorin fell, arrows from every direction finding their mark around his torso. "Thorin!" _

_He ran towards his uncle, vaguely aware of Kíli on his heels. Of course he was. Kíli followed him everywhere. _

_Fíli's heart pounded painfully in his chest as an orc raised its filthy axe over Thorin's head. With his most ferocious battle cry yet he swooped in and beheaded the creature as quickly as he could. Even as he did so, he saw Kíli slashing at - and destroying - two others. _

_But a dying dwarvish king was too great a prize for any orc or warg to resist. _

_As they tried to protect Thorin, Fíli and his brother were bombarded with enemy after enemy, and Fíli focused on nothing other than slashing and chopping at each one of them. Until something stole his focus. _

_A scream. _

_He whirled in slow motion and horror as Kíli's chest was pierced by not one, not two, but four arrows at once. _

_As his little brother fell, all that Fíli could see was the fear in his eyes, all he could hear was the resounding echo of shock and pain that had filled Kíli's voice as he cried out. _

_"No!" Fíli cried as Kíli fell on top of Thorin, still trying to shield him. "Kíli, Kí-"_

_Shock filled him as an outstanding agony pierced his stomach. He looked down in shock at the spear thrust through his midsection. _

_He stumbled back, falling on top of his uncle, next to his brother. He turned his face towards Kíli, struggling to breathe. His little brother's eyes flickered with dazed recognition. _

_"Fí-li…" the younger brother whispered, the light fading behind his eyes. "Think that…'eaving home…bad…idea…"_

_"Hold…on, Kíli." Fíli's heavy words were automatic; he could feel himself fading fast. "F'r me… F'r Tho…rin…" _

_"Fíli?"_

_The world blurred and Fíli's hand unconsciously searched for Kíli's. "Mmh?"_

_"F'rgive me…" _

_He knew he was drying, but even so fear pushed his heart faster, sharpened his sight, heightened his hearing. "No, Kíli, stay, stay wi… me…" his vision cleared in time for him to see Kíli's eyes glaze over. _

_"Kíli!" he stuttered, trying to breath. He could make it, he could make it…_

_Hold on for your family, Fíli…_

_Thorin was dead or dying. Kíli was dead. _

_Kíli was dead. _

_He stopped trying to breath. _

Fíli roared and sat up, his hand reaching towards the empty space where his sword should hang.

Fear pushed his heart faster. Wait, his heart?

It was beating…

The dream-like events of the previous day flooded back into his head, but for Fíli it was too much like a dream. He glanced around the empty living room of Bag End. Was this some twisted fate, or was his dream a reality?

Had he been offered a second chance?

"Fíli." A strong familiar voice trembled with relief. "You're awake. Are you alright?"

"Thorin…" Fíli trailed off, breathing heavily. "Is this…"

"Real? I believe so…" Thorin offered his sister-son his hand, and Fíli gladly allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. In an instant they embraced, firmly as was the manner of the dwarves, but with an intimacy only family could obtain.

"Kíli?" was Fíli's instant thought.

"He is outside, having breakfast with the others. Gandalf said that it may be a while before you woke, though I will admit I was almost as worried as Kíli when we could not wake you."

Fíli bowed his head in acknowledgement of Thorin's rare display of open emotion.

An awkward silence hung over them until Thorin placed his hands on Fíli's shoulders. "I thank you, Fíli, for what you and your brother did. I would not have asked it of you, and I am sorry that it was ultimately in vain."

Fíli smiled and placed his hands on his uncle's arms. "I know. And I would do it again."

Thorin smiled sadly. "I would not want you to."

"Fíli!" a voice cried happily, and Fíli couldn't help but smile.

"Kíli!"

Thorin smiled at his sister-sons. "I must speak with Gandalf."

"I'm glad you're awake, brother." Kíli's grin seemed wider than his face as he hugged Fíli tightly.

"Me too." As he looked into Kíli's eyes, Fíli's smile was chased away by the shadow of his nightmare.

His memory.

"What, what's wrong?" Kíli frowned.

"Nothing." Fíli shook his head, "Now let's go outside. I'm hungry."

As soon as the company had eaten their fill, Gandalf suggested that they left, and so once again, the company left Bag End.

It felt strange, for Dori, to be sitting astride a pony, his brothers flanking him once more. Losing Ori in Moria had been hard for both him and Nori, but while some families grew closer in times of grief, his relationship with Nori had become strained.

Since the night before, however, it had become almost like old times. Almost.

There were many changes in the company, though physically they looked the same, and Dori was quick to see them.

Each of the dwarves who had once died looked upon the world with wider eyes, and listened harder to the stories that were passed around. The dwarves who had lost their loved ones watched them regularly, just staring to make sure that this was a dream from which they would not wake.

Thorin himself was both softer and sterner, it seemed to Dori. In the first hour from setting off, even as the Shire lay in view behind them, his dark eyes watched the light filled forests with great scrutiny. He was even more careful, if that were even possible. Despite this, his eyes also glanced over his company more, with a fondness that had not been there before.

The most changed, in Dori's eyes, was Bilbo Baggins. The stammering uncertainty that had accompanied the hobbit sixty years ago was all but gone. In its place was eagerness and enthusiasm, and no short supply of stories to tell.

"So that young nephew of yours saved the entire world?" Kíli looked baffled.

"He did." Bilbo nodded proudly, barely glancing at Gandalf for reassurance. "Though according to our people he is of age, so in some ways he could be considered more mature than you. When do dwarves come of age anyway?"

Kíli pondered that for a moment, and Dwalin stepped in to answer the question.

"Around the age of one hundred." He made to add something else to his answer, but then stopped. Sixty years ago he would have teased the young dwarves, saying he doubted if they would ever 'come-of-age' and grow up, but now…

He was not so sure anymore. If Kíli and Fíli had been described as inseparable before, now they were positively joined at the hip, yet even so they seemed more sombre, less merry than they once had been.

He did not want to think it was true.

Something about the idea of Fíli and Kíli being grown up was disconcerting.

"Something wrong, brother?" Balin asked as Dwalin joined him at the front of the group.

Dwalin sighed deeply. "I do not know, as of yet."

Balin glanced over his shoulder. "Forgive me."

"What for?" Dwalin kept his eyes trained on the forest before him.

"For being a stubborn fool." Balin sighed. "I should have listened to you."

A wry smile painted itself across Dwalin's face. "You never have, brother."

"Well I should have. You warned me against Moria."

"I should have followed you there." Dwalin's face showed no emotion, but the husky tone of his voice gave him away to Balin. "It tortured me, Balin. You're my brother and I should have followed you when you asked me."

"No, you shouldn't have!" Balin snapped firmly. "I led enough dwarves to their dooms, good dwarves, who have not been granted so golden a chance to redeem themselves."

Dwalin looked at his older brother. Though physically he was younger than when he had last seen him, his eyes were heavier. "We all regret things. But if my forgiveness is all you want, you have it."

Balin smiled, content. "Will you tell me what worries you?"

"I was not lying when I said that I don't really know. It makes me uncomfortable, Kíli and Fíli being so quiet." Dwalin sighed. "Six decades ago I would have said that they were up to something, but now…"

Balin glanced over his shoulder at the brothers in question and nodded. "Aye. They seem grown."

"They would be. If they hadn't fallen, they would be of age now, the both of them." Dwalin nodded.

_"Dwalin?"_

_"Aye?" _

_"What's grown-up?"_

_Dwalin looked down at the small blonde child staring up at him. "It's when you're old enough and clever enough to survive on your own, laddie."_

_"Am I grown up?" Kíli piped up. While his brother was almost at Dwalin's elbows, the smaller of the pair could barely see above the tall dwarves knees. _

_Dwalin roared with laughter. "You are most certainly not, Kíli."_

_Fíli laughed as his brother pouted. "Frár said he would never grow up." _

_"I think I have to agree with Frár there, laddie." Dwalin chuckled, ruffling Kíli's hair. _

_Kíli's eyebrows disappeared under his newly tousled fringe. "But Dwalin!"_

_"What?" Dwalin could not help but mimic the child's shocked tone – it was too much fun. _

_"You supposed to be our side!" Kíli was aghast. _

_"You _are _supposed to be _on _our side." Fíli corrected his little brother automatically. _

_"Oh, I don't know. We might get a grown dwarf out of Fíli, yet. But you, Kíli, that's another story." Dwalin teased the young dwarves. _

_Kíli stomped his foot on the floor. "I _will _grow up! And I'll kill even more orcs an' goblins than you, Dwalin!" _

_Fíli and Dwalin both laughed as Kíli stormed out of the room. _

"Do not worry about Kíli and Fíli." Gandalf's voice drew Dwalin from his memories. "They will heal."

Dwalin straightened and grumbled a little.

Balin turned to the wizard. "Tell me, Gandalf, what will happen when we return to Erebor? Dain Ironfoot is king there, now. Do you expect him to stand down, or for Thorin to seek a different kingdom elsewhere?"

"I do not know, Master Balin, that choice is not mine. It belongs to Thorin and Dain."

Balin nodded. "I expected as much."

Gandalf nodded. The dwarves were not the merry bunch they once were, but he was confident that that would change soon enough.

Their first day of travelling went well, and when night drew in the dwarves readily settled for the night in a shallow rock shelter they had used years before.

"Bifur, Bofur, get a fire started." Thorin nodded towards them. "Tie the ponies around these trees here, where we can keep an eye on them."

Kíli and Fíli exchanged sheepish glances, but Thorin had not given the order to embarrass them. Even so, he did not explain himself, as they would most likely be offended if he admitted that he wanted to keep them nearby.

Bofur grinned as a fire flared between his fingers. "Bombur, it's all yours."

His brother grinned at the concept of cooking as he brought over his pots and pans, along with a portion of their supplies, bought in the markets of the Shire.

"So after Rivendell, where did his company go?" Fíli asked Bilbo curiously.

Bilbo was happy to plunge into the story. "Frodo did not know which way to go. It was lucky they had Gandalf, for a while anyway, to guide their progress."

"I was there, at Elrond's council." Glóin nodded. "The boy looked afraid, and I did not blame him. Gimli accompanied him, in representation of the dwarves."

"And he did a mighty fine job of it, I must say." Gandalf chipped in. "Even if there was a bit of tension between him and Legolas for a long while."

Bilbo looked at Gandalf for permission to continue his story. "So, they turned right-"

"Left." Gandalf corrected.

"Sorry, they turned left, and their journey had begun!" Surprisingly, Bilbo's story telling drew in all of the dwarves more than ever before. Kíli and Fíli unconsciously adopted positions similar to the hobbit children he had told the story of his first adventure to. "They walked for many days before they found their first obstacle – Cardura's. The mountain was not a willing host, and the four hobbits nearly froze to death. So-"

"I think that's enough of that part of the tale for now, Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf looked at Bilbo meaningfully and Bilbo nodded. Maybe Moria was better off left until the dwarves were a little more comfortable in their own skins.

"Gandalf?" Ori asked suddenly. "Will we age quicker, after the quest? Because some of us were older when we died…"

"That is a very good question, Ori, and to answer it I do not think so. Think of the loss of age as a reward."

"What will happen to _us_, Gandalf, if _we _don't complete the quest?" Bofur asked curiously. "Will we just age again?"

"Well, two years to the day after we began, if you have failed your quest, you will age many years in many minutes, and after an hour you would be so old physically that your body can no longer function." Gandalf's tone was very matter-of-fact, and Bilbo choked.

"Lovely."

"Oh, it would be quite unpleasant, I am sure." Gandalf nodded, feeling a little guilty at the slightly ill faces of the dwarves.

Shortly afterwards, they started to settle down to sleep.

"Fíli, Kíli, take the first watch." Thorin instructed. "As for the rest of you, get some sleep."

It did not take long for sleep to pass over the entire company, and for once Fíli and Kíli were silent. They watched the surroundings with due diligence, but nothing disturbed the peace of the silent night.

A soft smile warmed Kíli's face.

Fíli looked at his brother curiously. "What?"

"I was just remembering."

"Remembering what?" Fíli pressed.

"When we were little, and we took Ori's book to make fire and be like the smiths." He laughed softly. "That stupid book."

Fíli laughed, remembering it himself. "He wouldn't stop screaming…"

"I just remember, looking up at Ma and wondering how long it would take before she gave up and smiled at us again…" Kíli's soft smile faded. "I think that's the worst."

Frowning, Fíli stared at his brother. "What are you talking about? We've destroyed things a lot more valuable than five year old Ori's diary."

"That's not what I mean."

Fíli started to worry. Kíli never needed this much prompting to speak his mind – he usually needed prompting to stop him from doing so. "Kíli, what _do _you mean?"

Kíli shook his head, allowing tears to spring to his eyes, dropping the composure he had carried all day.

"Kíli!"

"I…it's not…it's…"

Fíli put his arm around his brother. "Talk to me, Kíli."

"She won't be the same." Kíli gave a weak smile, wondering if he could feel more pathetic.

Fíli's frown deepened. "What do you mean?"

Kíli laughed humourlessly. "I mean that Ma will be different…she's…old, now Fíli. And that scares me."

Fíli waited, knowing his little brother well enough to know more was to come.

"I feel weak…pathetic, but I can't help it! I just feel as though… Fíli, what if she doesn't even remember us?"

Fíli shook his head and squeezed Kíli's shoulder. "You are neither weak, nor pathetic brother. She is not _that _old. She won't forget us."

"What if she hates us for leaving her, Fíli?" As his first fear was revealed, there was nothing to stop the rest pouring from his mouth. "What if she disowns us, or-"

"Now you are being ridiculous." Fíli admitted. "If anything, she'll hate me, but you've always been her favourite. There's no point in arguing, Kíli, you know it's true! She won't _hate _us, Kíli."

Kíli sighed, putting his head between his knees. He felt very tired…

"We're on watch, Kíli." Fíli nudged Kíli in the ribs.

"I am awake, Fíli." Kíli protested, but his eyes were closing.

"If you're awake then I'm an elf." Fíli scoffed.

"Well then I can't associate with you anymore, I'm afraid, if you're an elf." Kíli mumbled.

"Go to sleep, Kíli." Fíli said softly. "It's safe."

_"Fíli!" _

_"I'm here." _

_"Orcs!" _

_"They're not here. Go to sleep, Kíli, it's safe."_

_"Sure?"_

_"Very." _

"Last time you said that we were children." Kíli yawned. "I had a nightmare…"

Fíli smiled as Kíli leant against him. "I'll keep watch, Kíli. And I won't tell Thorin."

Kíli's reply transformed into another yawn, and by the time his mouth had closed, he was asleep.

Fíli sighed. When they were children, Kíli had been very open with his emotions. He was never hesitant to tell his brother when he was afraid. But Kíli hadn't admitted that he was scared for at least twenty years, eighty if you counted the years they spent dead.

It made Fíli feel vulnerable, to know Kíli's fear, and it made him feel useless, as if there was nothing he could do. Well, he could certainly keep watch.

A rustling in the trees alerted his senses, but a soft voice called out. "Do not wake your brother."

"Gandalf…" Fíli whispered. "I did not see you leave."

"I left before you all settled down, Fíli."

"Oh…"

"Do not worry about Kíli."

"Were you eavesdropping?" Fíli raised an eyebrow.

"Me?" Gandalf looked suitably surprised. "No. But your concern is written all over your face, Fíli."

Fíli gave a wry smile. "I still do not feel…right…myself. And Kíli…"

"Life will take a while to get used to." Gandalf repeated. "But you will get used to it. And Kíli will laugh again."

"When, Gandalf?"

Gandalf sat down against a tree opposite the dwarf. "When you accept that what's done is done. When you put aside your regrets of the past and you put your trust for the future in the fates. You will feel 'right', as you put it, when you let it all go."

"Let it go? I watched my _brother die, _Gandalf."

"I know. But you cannot waste this chance by regretting the past, when you should be looking forward to the future."

Fíli sighed heavily, musing over Gandalf's words, before another thought filled his mind. "Please, do not tell Thorin."

"Tell Thorin what?"

"That Kíli fell asleep. Kíli would be ashamed if Thorin knew."

"Well he should feel ashamed of nothing! You have both proven yourselves already." Gandalf snapped. "But no, I will not tell Thorin, if that is what you wish."

Fíli nodded. He had not thought of Kíli as 'vulnerable' for decades, but now his little brother seemed so little. It seemed as though it would be so easy for someone to hurt him, to kill him…

"Sleep has a way of making even the toughest of warriors seem defenceless, Fíli." Gandalf seemed to be reading his thoughts. "You need not fear for Kíli."

"I feel that I now fear too much, Gandalf." Fíli admitted weakly. "I am afraid that I fear too much to be considered brave ever again by anyone's standards, no matter how well I have proved myself. Let alone Thorin's standards…"

Gandalf looked him in the eyes. "Remember, Fíli, that a fearless man can never be brave, for one can never be truly brave until they feel true fear, and strive through it."

Fíli smiled gratefully at Gandalf.

Across the dying fire on the other side of the camp site, Thorin Oakenshield closed his eyes.

_"Can we come with you?" Kíli asked with wide eyes. _

_It was his tenth summer, and he was being taken down the mountain with Fíli by his uncle to hunt for some meat for the first time. Though Kíli_ _was still a very young child – indeed Thorin could pick him up with one arm – it was important to Thorin that his sister-sons learnt how to fend for themselves, in case (Mahal forbid it) they were driven out of Ered Luin the way he had been driven from Erebor. _

_"When you go back to Erebor…" Fíli prompted when their uncle did not respond. _

_"Well that will depend." _

_"On what?" Fíli asked, crossing his arms. _

_"On how obedient you are." Thorin's gentle teasing had Kíli running along his side like an eager to please puppy. _

_"Uncle Thorin, please take us with you, we'll reclaim Ere- AH!" Kíli's excitement was extinguished by his scream. _

_"What's wrong?" Thorin asked instantly, wondering what the boy's sharp eyes had seen. _

_With a growl, a lone wolf emerged from the shadows. Thorin's instincts were quick to respond and he threw Fíli down on the floor behind him, shoving Kíli down on top of his brother. They tried to scramble away, but Thorin yelled at them. _

_"Don't move!" _

_He drew his sword and roared at the wolf. The creature was emaciated, and stared at the small dwarf children hungrily, but any hopes it had for a meal were dashed as Thorin lunged, slashing at its face. _

_With reflexes almost as fast as the dwarf's, the wolf turned tail and ran, keening forlornly as it fled. _

_"It has gone." Thorin assured his sister-sons as they peeled themselves off of the floor. "You are safe, now." _

_"Was that a wolf or a warg?" Fíli asked apprehensively. "Are there orcs here?" _

_"Just a wolf. There are no orcs here." Thorin offered Kíli his hand and pulled him to his feet. "Good spotting, Kíli." _

_Kíli beamed with pride despite his shock. Even for the young brothers, praise from Thorin was a rare gift. _

_"Now, let us hunt down something for dinner." Thorin smiled. They moved through the woods, Thorin warning the two boys to keep quiet so as not to scare off any prey. He could not help but smile at the pair of them. Fíli's hand was clutching the small knife Óin had given him on his last birthday, and Kíli's fingers kept absently loading and then unloading his little wooden bow and arrow. "Wait!" _

_The boys froze and Thorin crouched at their level, pointing at a deer visible in a nearby clearing. _

_Fíli, having hunted with Thorin a few times before, looked at his uncle expectantly and gestured to Kíli, who was holding his breath. _

_Thorin helped the little one draw the bow back and let go of the string. To Kíli's bitter disappointment the shot was well off the mark, and their prey vanished. _

_"I failed." he growled angrily, yet guiltily. _

_"You cannot learn if you do not fail, Kíli. There is more than one dear in these woods." _

_Later that evening when they were safely home, Kíli came to find his uncle, Fíli naturally right behind him. _

_"Uncle Thorin?"_

_"Kíli. I thought your Ma said that you should have an early night." _

_Kíli was unusually thoughtful. "I have a question." _

_"And you think I may have an answer?"_

_"What is brave? Frár says-"_

_"Oh, Frár says?" Thorin had heard a lot about what 'Frár says'. The dwarf in question, Frár, was in his thirties, an awkward time, and he had taken a dislike to Kíli and Fíli ever since they put beetles in his cake when they were only toddlers._

_"Yes, Frár says that being brave is never being scared." Kíli continued as though Thorin had not spoken. "But I thought being brave is being strong like a warrior. Then I asked Ma and _she _says that being brave is pretending that you're not scared when you are. So I asked Fíli-"_

_"And I said that _you_ are the bravest dwarf that I know, and that _you must _know what brave is?" _

_Thorin restrained a laugh at Kíli's frustrated confusion. "I would say that brave is when you are afraid, but you put more important things in front of your fear and you carry on through it." _

_"So in the woods today, we were brave?" Kíli asked hopefully. "Because we did what we were told when we wanted to run away?"_

_"You were very brave." Thorin said with a smile, and both of his sister-sons grinned. _

_"KÍLI!" a familiar voice called. "Bedtime, NOW!"_

_"COMING MA!" he sang back, hugging Thorin's legs before running out of the room. _

_"Uncle Thorin, can I tell you a secret?" Fíli asked, shuffling uncomfortably. _

_"Of course." Thorin nodded. _

_"In the woods today, I was…very scared. And I couldn't tell anyone else because if I told Kíli _he _would be scared but if I told the others they would laugh at me." _

_"FÍLI, YOU TOO!" Dís called. _

_"You can always tell me when you are afraid, Fíli. I will be there." Thorin said sincerely. "Fear is not a sign of weakness but a sign that there is something you care about in danger. Promise that you will tell me, when you are afraid. That is the only way I will be able to help you." _

_Fíli smiled at his uncle as he ran back to his mother. "I promise." _

Thorin shifted, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Somehow, that little fact hurt more than dying had. The loss of the unconditional trust of his nephews. Yes, he had been hard on them when they were older, but it had only been an attempt to raise them well. To protect them, ultimately, even if it meant the occasional bruising of an ego.

But still, he felt immense sorrow as he drifted off to sleep.

Fíli had forgotten his promise.

**Again, sorry for the length. I am still experimenting here, unfortunately at your expense, I fear :P**

**I am trying to keep everyone in character, but what will probably happen is they will start fairly OOC as they are coming back from the bed and finding their feet, so (hopefully) its not author negligence, it's purposeful! **

**Either way, this would have been later if it had not been for an AWFUL exam I had earlier. As any sane fanatic, my cure for exam stress is to write (mainly angst) so here is an earlier than usual chapter two! **

**Leave a review if you like, I love to hear any ideas/comments/compliments/critiscms :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Here Comes Trouble

**WOW, thank you all so much for the great response last chapter! **

**I feel that I have to apologise on behalf of my damn spell check. When I received a review from creepyLOTRfangirl55 (BTW, thank you very very much!) I was confused when it was mentioned that the mountain the fellowship passed was called Caradhras, because I thought that was what I wrote. After checking on Microsoft word and the internet, I realised that automatic spell check changed it to Cardura's. I have absolutely no idea why, and I apologise. **

**Also, I managed to confuse myself with dates etc, but for the purposes of this story, Dain ****_is _****still alive and King of Erebor. That will be of importance later. **

**Again, I am really sorry. I hope this chapter has less mistakes :P**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Three # Here Comes Trouble #**

_"Here comes trouble  
Through the struggle we will fly  
Here comes trouble  
Tonight's the night_

Tonight's the night

We'll be unstoppable hear us  
(We will not) we will not be swayed  
(We are) we are the impossible dreamers  
(We got what) we got what it takes  
(Tonight) tonight the army is marching  
(To make sure) to make sure we count  
(We fight) coz every fight that's worth fighting  
(Will end in) will end in a shout!" Alex Day, Here Comes Trouble

Just as before, the first few weeks of travelling went peacefully. By his own calculations and memories, Ori guessed that the next day they would reach the Trollshaws, where they had last encountered Tom, Bert and William, the now statue-like stone trolls.

At least, Ori hoped that they were still statue-like and stone. His eyes scouted the entire company and their surroundings. The others were all asleep, even Gandalf. Ori had felt proud when Thorin had given him the last watch on his own, and also relieved – it was the best chance he could get at pondering on his own mind for a while without Dori or Nori asking what he was thinking about.

Their worry was understandable to Ori, but it still irritated him. He had always liked to spend time alone with his thoughts, and in the forty years between the original quest and his death in Moria, Ori had grown, mentally and physically. None of the growth had been lost, despite what his brother's may think or what his face showed.

Despite being born only a couple of years before Fíli, he had lived for over forty years after the death of his friends, and he had died fighting. He had also, unlike his friends, died as an officially adult dwarf, so in some ways he was forty years older than them both. Grateful as he was for his second chance, he wished that he was not reduced to an underage dwarf once more.

As boredom started to gnaw at Ori's brain, he pulled out a book and a dip pen that Bilbo had given him from Bag End. Slowly, so as not to make noise to wake the others, he pulled out the little bottle of ink, safely wrapped in a pair of (thankfully clean) socks to protect it from being smashed in his pack. Curving his wrist gracefully, he wrote down the day's happenings and the progress they had made. Afterwards he could not help but turn to the back of the book and write a song or two. He would share them with Bilbo later; sharing poems and tales and songs with the hobbit was twice as much fun this time around as the pair of them had endless untold stories to tell.

He sighed as he finished. The sun was coming up, and soon it would be his duty to wake the dwarves, and his thoughts would be preyed on once again.

He could live with Dori's protection; it had been there for as long as he remembered, since his parents died when he was only a child. It was Nori's sideways glances and concerned tones that felt wrong. The middle brother had always tried (and often succeeded) to convince Ori to take more risks, but now…

Shaking his head to clear out the uncomfortable thoughts, Ori nudged the dwarf nearest to him, Óin. Soon the whole company was awake.

"I think we should proceed in caution." Gandalf advised Thorin. "There is no telling if the trolls we met sixty years ago will be revived and if they are, they _will_ remember what happened the last time they encountered dwarves. During the day it will be no problem, of course, but tonight I advise that we are on our guard."

Thorin nodded and turned around to address the entire company. "If anyone sees any fires, stay away from them and inform the rest of us. There will be no investigating alone. Or in pairs, or even threes."

Kíli shifted a little on his pony as Thorin's gaze fixed on him and Fíli as gave the order not to investigate alone. When Thorin turned back around, he found himself breathing a sigh of relief.

Ori noticed Kíli's fallen expression, and he was not the only one.

Fíli nudged his brother. "You alright?"

"Of course." Kíli scoffed, but his smile did not meet his eyes. "Why on earth wouldn't I be?"

Fíli restrained himself from rolling his eyes and flicked his pony's reigns. He rode away from his brother and joined Ori. "Ori, fancy a little game?"

Five minutes later they passed by a river, and Fíli and Ori were throwing a large apple between them. As it passed from hand to hand, their count grew louder.

"Ninety seven-"

"Ninety eight-"

"Ninety nine-"

_"Four hundred!" _Fíli cried triumphantly, catching the apple and throwing it back to Ori.

Ori caught it and started the count again. "One!"

"Two!"

By five hundred, both of their arms were getting tired, but they continued until Fíli roared with glee.

"SIX HUNDRED AND ONE!" he turned and beamed gloatingly at Kíli. "Six hundred and one, Kíli!"

Kíli's eyes widened and he rode up the line. "No? No!"

"It has been confirmed." Fíli's tone was gleeful. "Ori is a better catcher than you."

"Me?" Kíli's mouth fell open. "You, brother, are the one who always drops it on six hundred."

"Ha!" Fíli burst out, winking at Ori, who laughed, catching the apple once more.

"That is not fair, Fíli." Kíli protested.

"How old are you?" Fíli teased, and Kíli shut his mouth with a little scowl.

"Kíli, catch." Ori threw the apple to Kíli who reached for it automatically. It danced on his fingertips before his fingers finally secured around the fruit.

Fíli laughed at the shock on Kíli's face. "See? You almost missed it. You are terrible at catching. "

Kíli looked down at the apple in his hands. He used to throw and catch with Fíli for fun. Just for fun.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe! His brain ordered, but his body could not reply. He watched as an orc came up behind his brother and thrust its spear through Fíli's torso…_

_Fíli fell through the air; blood was spreading over his abdomen. _

_Kíli's mind exploded – Fíli was dying. _

Kíli shuddered. Any time he remembered the past, happy memoires or otherwise, flashbacks would attack him. He loathed the idea of falling asleep; nightmares plagued his dreams. He tried to hide the lack of sleep, but a few days after they set off from Bag End, Fíli had pulled Kíli away from the others.

_"Kíli?" _

_"Yes?" _

_"Are you…" Fíli looked awkward. "Kíli, are you having nightmares?" _

_Defensively Kíli recoiled. "What? How old do you think I am, Fíli? I'm not a child!" _

_"I have been having nightmares, Kí." Fíli admitted quietly, sincerely, and Kíli felt his sudden rush of anger ebb away. _

_He sighed. "I'm fine, Fíli." _

_"Gandalf…" Fíli sighed as if he could not get the words out. "Never mind." _

_"Gandalf what? Now I'm curious." _

_"Nothing. Just…let it go, Kíli." _

_Kíli frowned. "Let what go, Fíli?"_

_"Everything." Fíli smiled sadly and re-joined the others. _

_"Great…" Kíli grumbled as he followed him over. "Now my brother is speaking in more riddles than Gandalf." _

Even so, Fíli had started to let things go, and since speaking with him, Kíli had noticed his brother relax a little more, laugh a little longer.

Kíli himself had not been able to laugh. He had smiled, he had joked and even snickered a little but laughing was something different altogether.

He stared at the apple. When was the last time he did something for fun?

"Kíli?"

Kíli had not realised that he had stopped. He threw the apple into the air and caught it easily, considering for a moment. Then he whirled with a burst of speed and launched his missile at Fíli.

His older brother, who had not expected it, was hit full on in the chest. He tumbled backwards off the pony and hit the floor with a thud. Fíli stared up at his little brother in shock.

"Sorry…" Kíli coughed, trying to paint due concern on his face. "I thought you could catch."

The entire company turned but a devilish smile spread its way across Fíli's face. He charged at his brother, knocking Kíli off his own pony.

"Kíli, Fíli!" Thorin's strong voice was barely recognised as the two brothers started brawling.

Ori smiled. They were not fighting.

_War cries rang through the air as two young dwarf children scrambled around on the floor, kicking and hitting and scratching at each other. _

_"RAWR!" Kíli yelled, leaping onto Fíli. _

_Ori watched with wide eyes as the two fought. "Stop!" _

_They slowed and stopped, and they both smiled at Ori. _

_"What's wrong?" Fíli asked, panting. _

_"You're going to kill each other!" Ori protested. _

_Kíli was confused. "No we're not. We're wrestling, Ori. Don't you wrestle with Nori and Dori?"_

The two brothers continued to wrestle, though more skilfully and violently than when they were children.

Thorin managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Fíli, Kíli, stop!"

At Thorin's order, Kíli's brain told him to stop. But he would be damned if he would finish this on the bottom.

With a roar he pushed Fíli over his head. Fíli felt himself falling and cried out in shock when he did not hit the rock beneath. His hands automatically clenched on Kíli's arms and he inadvertently dragged his little brother with him into the deep river.

"FÍLI! KÍLI!" Thorin yelled as their heads disappeared under the water. He leapt off his pony along with several others and raced to the rocks his sister-sons had fallen from, looking desperately for either of them.

They burst from the water at the same time, gasping and choking, but they dragged themselves to the edge of the river quickly enough. They collapsed on the bank next to each other, breathing heavily.

Thorin opened his mouth to condemn their stupidity, but Kíli looked at Fíli and Fíli looked at Kíli.

Fíli snorted and wiped a hand across his mouth, but he could not wipe the smile from his face. Kíli looked at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Then they laughed. Kíli barely noticed that he was letting go as laughter fell from his lips. The brothers laughed so hard that the other dwarves could not help but join in.

Even Thorin smiled, happy and relieved to see Kíli laughing. The only ones who did not realise the significance of Kíli's laughter were Fíli and Kíli themselves.

"You two are unbelievable." Thorin's voice was not unkind as he helped his sister-sons to their feet. It was quite a task as they were both still laughing like mad men. He practically had to throw Kíli up onto the pony.

"So-so-sorry, Thorin!" Kíli panted, between laughs, trying to regain composure.

Thorin shook his head. "Do not apologise, Kíli. But do not do it again, unless you want to be in pieces when we return to Erebor."

Fíli at last brought himself to quiet with a final chuckle. "Do you remember the last time we wrestled like that?"

Kíli shook his head. "Do you remember the last time we laughed like that?"

"Ah, the good old days." Fíli sighed happily.

Their content did not last long, however, as the day grew older and the wing brought with it a chill that bothered no dwarf, apart from the two who were soaking wet.

The night began to set in and Thorin halted the company near the same abandoned house they had sheltered near before.

"Óin, Glóin, you know what to do." Thorin nodded at them. "Fíli, Kíli, tie the ponies to the beams in the house. We will all keep watch over the ponies tonight."

They nodded and did what they were told.

As Bombur started to cook, Ori and Bilbo started talking once again about writing and story-telling.

"You must be famous in the Shire…"

"Me?" Bilbo laughed. "Infamous is more like it. I disappeared one too many times. If you want a famous hobbit, you should have looked closer at the young hobbits that ran ahead to Rivendell. Frodo, Merry and Pippin, along with Sam are the most famous hobbits there ever have been, both in and out of the Shire. They told their friends and families the truth about what happened, and the story spread. Hobbits may not approve of adventures, but they do appreciate that the four of them did save the world. It counts as a worthy cause for an adventure."

"But reclaiming Erebor did not count as a worthy enough cause for an adventure?"

"Apparently not."

"So none listened to your stories?" Ori found that hard to believe.

"Oh, my stories were listened to. Mainly by the young hobbits. That is how I grew to know Frodo better, before I adopted him." Bilbo explained.

Gandalf joined them. "I think that is another reason that you are infamous, my dear friend. According to Merry many a mother, including his own, have complained about Bilbo Baggins convincing their children to run into the woods in search of elves and dwarves and trolls."

"There's nothing wrong with a bit of spirit." Bilbo protested. He watched as Kíli and Fíli sat down by the fire, shivering.

"What happened next?" Ori asked Bilbo. "When the Fellowship could not pass Caradhras? You started the story weeks ago…"

Bilbo looked at Gandalf who inclined his head. "You can tell them, Bilbo."

"They uh…Well…" Bilbo tried not to stammer. "Ahem. Frodo, when faced with the option, made the decision to go through the mines of Moria. They had no other choice."

Ori frowned. "But the water was right up to the door. That is how Óin…"

"You're forgetting that around twenty years had passed. The water level dropped." Bilbo explained, telling the tale. Every dwarf stopped to listen as Bilbo wove the story around them. They could almost see the mines around them, they could almost hear the goblins cackle. Bilbo told them of the Balrog, of Gandalf's fall, and Gandalf explained how he regained his life.

Bilbo told the dwarves of the path to Lorien, but stopped before he told them of what happened in the wood. He was tired, and he wanted to do the story justice. Gimli would never forgive him if he did not find the right words to describe the Lady Galadriel.

Thorin himself took the first watch but it took a while for the others to fall into sleep. They were restless, and the memory of the trolls was strong in their minds, but eventually sleep took them.

When it did, Thorin stood, silently walking through his company, checking on each of them. He cast his eyes over the dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf. Ori's book was held loosely in his hand as he snored, Bifur was muttering nonsense in his sleep. Bilbo was curled up like a child, his hands cushioning his head, and Glóin was clutching his axe as per usual. Kíli and Fíli were lying very close together, shivering slightly.

Thorin cursed himself for overlooking his sister-sons soaking clothing. The night could be colder, but it could also be much warmer. Dwarves can often withstand most temperatures, but it was obvious from the way the pair huddled close to each other and the fire that Fíli and Kíli were freezing. He shrugged off his fur cloak and laid it over the top of them for the time being.

Shortly before he woke Balin for the second watch, he removed the now damp furs and wrapped them around his own shoulders, watching for a long moment. Kíli sighed softly, shifting a little closer to his brother, but the shaking had stopped and the brothers' cheeks had enough colour in them to appease Thorin.

He remembered the conversation that he had overheard a few weeks ago, and he did not want his sister-sons thinking that he thought them weak.

Their hearts were lighter the following day, for the trolls could be seen through the woods, still stone, still statues. They moved on, making their way towards the edge of the forest to the hills, and against Thorin's private wishes towards Rivendell.

"A piece of silver to the first dwarf, or hobbit, who can guess what I'm thinking of." Kíli announced, bored of the lack of conversation.

"You don't have any silver, Kíli." Nori pointed out.

Kíli sighed. "Well I'll owe you then.

Nori smiled and shook his head. The wagers, for once, went over his head. He looked back into the forest they were leaving and forward to the sparse, rocky hills that they were about to travel through.

Then he turned back, slowly. Eyes were watching them from the trees. Dark eyes. He opened his mouth to speak when a growl reached his ears.

"Wargs!" he yelled, trusting his instincts. Almost as soon as he had done so, the largest warg he had ever seen leapt towards him with a roar.

Kíli's instincts saved him; before Nori could even twitch the young dwarf had loaded, aimed and fired his bow.

His arrow hit its mark and pierced straight through the warg's skull, killing it instantly.

Thorin stared at Gandalf in horror. "Is this enemy old or new?"

"I do not think it would be wise to stay around and find out. Quickly!" Gandalf urged Shadowfax who started to gallop. The ponies, spurned on by the Meara, rode faster than they had ever attempted to ride in their lives, despite the riders and supplies on their backs.

"Ride!" Thorin yelled, pulling his own pony back to take up the rear. "Don't look back!"

Naturally most of them did look back, but each one who did wished that they had not. A pack of orcs rode behind them, each armed with a sword and, more worryingly, a bow, with quivers that seemed to be almost overflowing.

"Make for the Hidden Valley!" Gandalf yelled to the dwarves. "Follow me!"

Trustfully they followed Gandalf through the relatively bare hills, but this time there was no Radagast to distract the orcs from their hunt. They chased after the dwarves and though the ponies had a head start, the orcs all had bows and they all had arrows.

Nori gave a startled cry as his pony fell beneath him. Before he reached the hard cold ground, however, a firm grip caught hold of his arm and dragged him up onto a different pony.

Suddenly finding himself riding behind his little brohter, Nori did not know if he was more shaken or relieved. Who knew that Ori had such strength in his arms?

Arrows flew past their heads and shattered at their feet.

"This way!" Gandalf roared, changing direction. The ponies neighed and whickered in protest and fear, and their eyes were wide, for they were no war horses. Being shot at and chased by orcs was not what they were used to.

But even as they started to scatter against their riders' wishes, Shadowfax whinnied loudly and they turned, following him, pushing their little legs harder and faster against the ground.

"Gandalf!" Thorin roared as an arrow sliced his cheek. "We cannot outrun them!"

Wordlessly Gandalf changed Shadowfax's direction.

"Gandalf!"

"Follow me!" the wizard yelled back, and led them into another wood.

As they rode, luck turned Dwalin's head backwards as a lone warg leapt at his pony, allowing him to jump before he was crushed or crunched. Though he would never admit it as long as he lived, Dwalin's heart was pained more than his body as the brave little pony fell to the floor.

The warrior in him took over entirely, smashing his hammer into his enemies head. As the warg fell to the ground dead, he turned and ran.

"Fíli, Kíli!" Thorin yelled at them meaningfully.

The brothers urged their protesting ponies to fall back and allow them to each grab one of Dwalin's arms as they had done with Bilbo years before. The warrior was a lot heavier than the hobbit, and it took most of the brothers' combined strength to carry him onto the back of Thorin's pony as he cried out his thanks.

The poor pony in question let out a whimper like sound of complaint but forced its legs to go even faster.

Bofur could not help but laugh. "Your pony is even more stubborn than you, Tho-"

An arrow hit its mark in the small of Bofur's back and his sentence was cut short as his face smashed into his pony's neck.

"Bofur!" several dwarves cried.

The originally centralised pain in his back intensified and spread but Bofur forced himself to sit up enough to see over his pony's head. He groaned, feeling the arrowhead embedded in his skin, but more importantly his thick clothing preventing the arrow from moving any further into his skin.

"Gandalf, we cannot do this much longer!" Thorin yelled, his tone as close to desperation as it ever got.

"At last!" the wizard muttered, starting to cross a peaceful, shallow ford. "Quickly!"

The dwarves followed through the water, nearing the other side when the wargs reached the bank. When they reached the other side of the river, however, Thorin's stubborn pony had had enough. It buckled its front legs and refused to stand, leaving both Dwalin and Thorin on the ground.

Even as the orc arrows flew towards them, slimmer arrows knocked the orcs off of their wargs. Strange noises came from the trees as dozens of elven arrows destroyed their attackers.

As the last two wargs yelped and fled, the dwarves gathered around Bombur, who was lifting his injured brother from his pony with gentle care.

"Oh, Mahal, that hurts!" Bofur grimaced, gripping Bombur's coat with an iron grip.

"Where are we, Gandalf?" Thorin asked, breathing heavily and looking to Bofur.

"You just crossed the eastern borders of Rivendell." A familiar elf announced, emerging from the trees.

"Lindir." Gandalf nodded, relieved. "We are in your debt."

"We are happy to help, Mithrandir." Lindir smiled back, before turning to Thorin. "Lord Elrond wishes for you to know that you are welcome here, Thorin Oakenshield."

Thorin nodded with slightly reluctant respect, and Gandalf turned to the elf. "Are they here?"

"They arrived yesterday from the Glittering Caves."

"How much do they know?"

"The youngest hobbit, Master Peregrin, made sure that his friends told them nothing other than Bilbo Baggins was on the way with Mithrandir, who had requested their presence."

Gandalf looked shocked. "Well, it appears Master Pippin has learnt to keep his tongue."

"I never thought that day would come." Bilbo muttered fondly, still worried about Bofur.

"Lindir, Master Bofur has been wounded."

Lindir's eyes sharply assessed the damage in seconds, before nodding. "I will call a healer immediately."

Óin looked insulted but Dwalin was the one to realise the problem and comfort him. "My pony had most of our medical supplies."

"Was anyone else hit?" Gandalf scanned the group hastily.

Fíli instantly let go of his left upper arm and Thorin's glare told him that he would have his scratched cheek looked at by no elf.

Gandalf sighed and more elves came down from the trees, bows slung casually over their backs. Begrudgingly, Thorin followed them up the path towards the buildings of Rivendell, and the rest of his company followed suit, Bombur and Bifur helping Bofur walk until a pair of female elves carried him away.

The tired ponies took to the elves a lot faster than their owners did, nudging their pockets and their faces with newfound energy.

Lord Elrond was waiting for them as they entered, and he bowed. "Welcome once more, Thorin Oakenshield."

"Thank you." Thorin said stiffly, bowing a little.

The other dwarves slowly followed suit.

"I am sure that you are hungry and tired. We have had food ready for days." Elrond smiled, leading them further into the complex corridors.

Ori for one was a little depressed by the memory of the salads that the elves had prepared for them previously, but he was shocked at what he saw when they were led to the dining room.

The long table was laden with an incredible feast, and most importantly with a surprising variety of meats.

Elrond chuckled at the dwarves' slack faces and looked at Gandalf.

"I asked Master Gimli the easiest way to appease an angry dwarf." He said in elvish, and Gandalf laughed heartily, replying in the same tongue.

"That was a very good idea, my Lord Elrond."

Elrond nodded, addressing his guests. "Please, sit, eat."

After an initial moment of trepidation, the dwarves all began eating with renewed energy, with one exception.

Bombur's eating had slowed to the point that it had almost stopped, and Ori frowned.

"Are you feeling alright, Bombur?"

The large dwarf forced a smile. "I am fine, Ori."

"Bofur will be fine." Ori grinned, and sure enough Bofur entered the room shakily moments later.

A cheer rose up around the table and he bowed with a grin, which turned into a grimace.

"That was fast." Thorin remarked.

Bofur smiled a little more. "The damned thing was slowed by my clothing; the wound's not that deep."

"I am glad to hear it." Thorin said sincerely, and Bofur sat happily at the table.

When the dwarves had finally eaten their fill they were shown to another room where they could lay out their belongings and make an inventory of what they had and what they had lost.

"Brother?" Kíli asked with a frown as Fíli winced.

"It's nothing." Fíli grinned a little painfully and shrugged his coat back over his shoulder.

"You're hurt." Kíli's frown deepened and he pulled his brother's coat clean off.

"Kíli-"

Kíli ignored his brother and inspected the shallow arrow wound.

"It scraped me is all, Kíli." Fíli insisted. "I am _fine." _

Wordlessly, Kíli pulled a little jar of ointment out of his bag and smeared it over Fíli's found. Fíli hissed but did not move, watching curiously as Kíli pulled out a clean strip of bandage and tied it around Fíli's arm.

"That should keep out any infection." He said seriously, and Fíli laughed at his usually reckless younger brother.

"Thank you, Kíli."

"Anytime." The younger dwarf grinned, pausing as three pairs of footsteps came towards them. He listened intently as a vaguely familiar voice argued with one he had never heard before.

"…the final count was forty-three to me, forty-two to you!"

"Are you forgetting the final orc?"

"No, I am certainly not forgetting _my kill." _

"It was a tie."

"Listen laddie, if you don't stop your elven nonsense I will be forced to tie your bow in a knot."

The unfamiliar voice laughed. "I would like to see you try."

Gandalf, having been the source of one set of footsteps, opened the door, revealing the two speakers. "Thorin, I present to you Gimli, son of Glóin and I would like to introduce Legolas, son of Thranduil. Legolas, Gimli, welcome to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Kíli burst into a fit of laughter at the look on Gimli's face. Fíli and Bofur were the next two to see the funny side and they laughed even harder as Gimli opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

Legolas' usually calm face was a mix of confusion, discomfort and a little guilt. He bowed slightly at Thorin, and Kíli, Fíli and Bofur quietened with a serious of awkward coughs.

Gandalf wanted to say something, but he knew that the awkward silence would have to be broken by a dwarf or elf.

Or, alternatively, a mischievous young hobbit who had been watching with his cousin from the shadows.

"And that, my dear Merry, is why it was so much more entertaining to leave it a surprise."

**There. I am a little worried that this chapter was a little long. Again. I am sorry about that, and if I am right tell me and I will strive to make them a little shorter!**

**Regardless, here you go. Any advice, complaints or compliments will be graciously accepted. **

**PS: I struggled naming this chapter, so if the song choice is a little less relavant than usual, I'm sorry. Like I have said, there will be a lot of angst in this story, so be warned :) **

**I am sorry if this is slow – ARGH! I'm babbling over the top so I will shut up now and let you get on with your (hopefully lovely) day. Thank you for reading :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Meant to Live

**This chapter has been very difficult to write, and I am sorry.**

**I have re-written it about five times, no exagerations, so I am sorry it has taken this long! I have just finished my exams, so updates should be quicker now :) One thing I have struggled with is ages. In one rewrite of this I wrote a flashback involving a young Gimli, Kíli and Fíli, and I decided to go with dwarves maturing at around 40 as that's the best I could get, making 20s still childhood. Then it struck me about ages when leaving Erebor, and I'm going for Thorin, Frerin, Balin and Dís as their ages from the book was it's the best I've got. Also, god only knows (or maybe god and Tolkien) how old Legolas is. **

**The other hardest thing about this chapter was the interaction between a certain elf and certain dwarves. I don't know if I am happy with the chappy, but it's the best I could do so action should pick up soon. **

**Also, the chapter name/lyrics are a little more random than usual but they kinda fit.**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Four : Meant to Live**

"We want more than this world's got to offer  
We want more than this world's got to offer  
We want more than the wars of our fathers  
And everything inside screams for second life

We were meant to live for so much more  
Have we lost ourselves?  
We were meant to live for so much more  
Have we lost ourselves?  
We were meant to live for so much more  
Have we lost ourselves?  
We were meant to live  
We were meant to live." Switchfoot, Meant to Live

_He ran from his home, terrified, though he could not show it. No, Thorin knew that despite being only twenty four, despite only being a child, he still had a duty to usher as many people out as possible. He had to protect and encourage and hurry his people out of the mountain. His grandfather leaned on him heavily for a moment, before managing to stumble to his own feet, with a muttered order of "Run, Thorin." _

_A choking cry froze his heart and he turned. "Frerin!" _

_To his utter relief, his younger brother was right behind him, though he was bleeding from his shoulder. The bleeding looked heavy. "Thorin!" _

_Frerin had an uncanny ability to sum up a whole array of emotions and tell his brother many different things in a single word, and today was no different. All he had cried was his brother's name, but that was far from all Thorin heard. _

I'm scared, Thorin, what's happening? Are we going to die, where will we live? What's happening? Thorin I'm scared!

_A bloodied woman staggered screaming towards Thorin and he grabbed her, stumbling slightly. Next thing he knew her weight was removed as Frerin looped her arm over his shoulders, making eye contact with his brother as he did. _

_Thorin swallowed. His brother was only nineteen, he was a child. Technically, Thorin was also a child, but he would not dwell on that at the moment. At least _he _had a beard. _

_Frerin's eyes skirted past his brother and he gasped. "Elves!"_

Hope, Thorin, they'll help us right?

_Thorin whirled, noticing the seemingly endless lines of elves, ready for battle. _

_"Run for your lives!" Thorin yelled, shoving Frerin further in front of him before turning and waving manically at the elves. "HELP US!" _

_Hope filled his heart, but just as quickly it fluttered and died as he watched Thranduil turn. As he watched the powerful Elven-King abandon them. The elves disappeared over the mountain, and hopeless anger filled Thorin's heart. _

_"Thorin!" Frerin yelled fearfully. "Come _on!"

_Thorin dragged his eyes away from the elves and looked up at the gates of their home. A strange feeling crushed his heart and for the first time it struck him that there was a dragon in his home. He might never see the inside of it again. Though he did not think it possible, his heart crumpled even further with the horrific recollection that his mother was inside, he had not seen her come out. Oh, Mahal, where was his mother?_

_He staggered back towards the mountain blindly. _

_"THORIN!" Frerin screamed, his throat raw_

What are you _doing? _Thorin, come back. Come on, we have to go! We're running for our lives, Thorin come _back! _

_His younger brother's voice stopped him, and Thorin turned, running after the other dwarves, taking up the rear and following them away from his home._

_They ran until the mountain shrank behind them, until the older dwarves could no longer run and the little dwarflings could no longer keep up and then Thorin felt his knees buckle. He was not very tired, so to speak. More drained. Yes, drained was the right word._

_"Thorin…" Frerin stumbled over and shrank into the floor next to Thorin, his usual confident manner reduced to a young boy seeking comfort from his older brother. "Thorin…Ma…"_

Ma was in there, no one else came out. She's dead, Thorin!

_"I know." Thorin swallowed, looking at Frerin hopelessly. They dropped their heads so their foreheads touched, united by grief and shock. _

_"We're homeless." Frerin mumbled, trying to understand. "Thorin, we're homeless! What are we going to do now? What can we do?" _

_"We will be alright, Frerin." Thorin promised, though his voice wavered. He threw an arm over Frerin's shoulders and drew him close as he stared around at hundreds of ragged, frightened dwarves. To his horror, hundreds was the appropriate word. From the thousands of dwarves who had dwelled in Erebor, only around four hundred seemed to have survived. _

_"Dís!" Frerin choked suddenly, jumping to his feet and whirling around. "Thorin, where is she?" _

_Thorin had not thought it possible for his heart to grow colder, but in that moment it did. His ten year old sister was not in his line of vision, in fact, she was not anywhere. _

_"DÍS!" Thorin roared, spinning around in a full circle. Was she with their mother? He prayed that she was not. He prayed harder than he had ever prayed in his life. He prayed that she was safe, that she was not hurt._

_A younger dwarf ran up to him, his face full of fear. "Thorin!" _

_"Balin, do you know where Dís is?" Thorin begged his young friend, desperate for the positive answer. _

_Balin shook his head, a tear leaking from his eye. "Thorin, I need your help, please!" _

_Thorin swallowed. He was son of the king's son, and it was his duty to help his people, even if his sister was missing. Even if he was only a child._

_"Frerin, look for Dís." He instructed. "What's wrong, Balin?" _

_The seven year old took a shuddering breath. "I don't know where my parents are." _

_Thorin decided not to tell his friend that he had the same problem. "Okay, let us have a look then." _

_To Thorin's immense relief, Balin found his parents in minutes, his hysterical mother thanking Thorin endlessly. Looking around, Thorin felt his own breaths hitching in his throat as he searched desperately for his father. His grandfather, though shaken, was helping wherever he could by picking people off the floor, keeping the people moving. They had to keep moving. But where were they going to go? _

_"Thorin!" _

_Thorin turned, barely resisting the urge to fling himself into his father's arms. "Father!" _

_He need not have worried about looking like a child in front of the people, as his father pulled him into a rough hug. "Where are your brother and sister?"_

_"Frerin's…Frerin's…" Thorin tried to swallow the lump in his throat but instead his voice came out higher than usual. "He's looking for Dís…Is Ma with you…"_

_Thráin shook his head, grief etched deep into his features. Thorin had never before thought of his father as old. "She's gone, Thorin… Little Dís is missing?" _

_Thorin nodded grimly. "What do we do?" _

_"We keep the people moving, Thorin. We keep looking for her, but we keep moving." Thráin said gently, his hands firmly on his son's shoulders. Thorin could see his father's eyes starting at every inch of his face, checking for injuries, soaking in Thorin's features. _

_"Where to?" Thorin whispered. "I thought Thranduil would help us, father why won't he help?" _

_"I do not know. Never trust the elves, Thorin. Not after this. We cannot go to Mirkwood…"_

_"Then where can we go?" Thorin cried, drawing the attention of those around them. "The Iron Hills?"_

_"No!" Thráin shook his head. "We will not take our people there. We must look towards east. If we keep moving, we will be alright."_

_"But where will we sleep, where will we eat-"_

_"Thorin." His father's calm voice stopped him. "Everything will be fine." _

_Thorin nodded, shaken and gasping. He could hardly believe that barely two hours ago he had a home, a royal and magnificent way of life._

_"We must search for your sister." _

_Thorin nodded, instantly turning and looking through the crowds. "Dís!" _

_The woods were near, and Thorin could see faces in the branches, they looked elven. "My sister's missing!" he yelled in desperation. "Help us!" _

_The faces disappeared. _

_Once again he had been betrayed. He started staggering through the crowd, yelling for his sister. In the distance he could hear Frerin do the same, but so many other dwarves were screaming for loved ones. _

_So many people were screaming. _

_Then the most glorious sound in the world filled his ears. "Thorin!" _

_"Dís!" he cried thankfully as the tearful ten year old girl propelled herself into his arms. He turned back and yelled to his brother and father. "I found her!" _

_"Thrn!" she squeaked, her voice muffled by his coat. She was barely as takk as his elbow, and for Thorin holding her tightly in his arms was effortless. "Scared!" _

_"I've got you, Dís!" he mumbled, trying his hardest not to cry. "Everything will be okay, now." _

_"The elves will come, won't they Thorin? They'll help us!" she looked at him desperately, studying his face intensely as if she had never expected to see him again, which was probably the truth. He knew that she secretly admired the pretty gifts that the elves brought, not to mention the beautiful elves themselves, and it pained him to realise that he had to shatter her naïve illusion. _

_"They're not coming, Dís. They betrayed us." The hurt and pain on his sister's face was enough to cement hatred for the other race until the end of time. But at least she was safe._

_As Frerin ran over and threw his arms around both Dís and Thorin, Thorin felt like he was a little child again. He wanted nothing more than to sob bitterly, but that was not an option. _

_"Why aren't they coming, Mama said they'd help us!" Dís squeaked, after assuring herself the both Frerin and Thorin were alright. "She said that Grandpa's stone meant that they would come!" _

_"Grandpa's stone's gone." Thorin said quietly. "And the elves abandoned us." _

_"But why?" Dís wailed, heartbroken that the pretty people had left them. _

It was impossible not to hate the elves after the events of that day. Anything related to the attack of Smaug brought a bitter taste to Thorin's mouth, especially the recollection of those who betrayed him. Had the elves helped, perhaps the hundreds of dwarven children trapped in the city would have had a chance to live. Had the elves helped, perhaps his brother would have never fallen in Battle. Had the elves helped, perhaps they would have had a home.

And if the elves had helped and Smaug had been defeated, the Battle of Five Armies would have never happened. Fíli and Kíli would never have died.

Staring at Legolas, had Gimli been any other dwarf Thorin would have scorned him immediately. But he knew Gimli. He knew how brave the young dwarf was, how loyal…

_"Mr Thorin, please take me with you! I can fight just as well as Fíli and Kíli, I'm not that much younger." The young red haired dwarf begged. _

_Thorin sheathed his sword. "No, master Gimli. Not this time. Your father forbid it, and I agree with him. You are too young." _

_Gimli sighed, but did not argue with the King-in-exile. He hung his head dejectedly and bowed stiffly, but Thorin put a hand on his shoulders. _

_"Gimli, son of Glóin, I do not deny you this quest because I do not think you are worthy." Gimli looked at him sceptically and Thorin continued. "You are not ready. Worthy, yes, ready no." _

_Gimli sighed. "Thank you, Mr Thorin." _

_Thorin gave Gimli a rare smile. "If we reclaim Erebor, we will need brave warriors to escort the woman and children to the Lonely Mountain. The road is dangerous, they will need protection." _

_Gimli nodded. "I can do that." _

_"I am sure that you can, and you will." Thorin nodded. _

The conversation had taken place only days before they left for Erebor. Thorin had known Gimli long before that, however. Dwarven women were rare in the best of times, but after so many died in Erebor and afterwards, there were few children in the Blue Mountains. Thorin had taken his duties seriously, and made a point of knowing who had children, which child belonged to who…

Gimli had been born a wrestler, and he had been good friends with Fíli and Kíli from the day he began toddling around the mountain, which meant that Thorin had seen a good deal of the dwarf since he was a child. Of all the dwarven children in the Blue Mountains, Gimli was one of the ones that Thorin knew the best.

Gimli's passionate dislike of the elves had been obvious since he was a very young child, and Thorin knew that he meant no betrayal by befriending Thranduil's son.

"Hello, Gimli." Thorin said finally, when the silence became unbearable.

Gimli's eyes opened further and he gaped like a fish once more. "Th-th-Thorin Oakenshield?"

"The Blessing of the Ancients." Legolas murmured, his eyes lighting with realisation. He bowed once again, more deeply this time.

"And just what does that mean?" Gimli scoffed.

"It's old magic. It means that your kin have a chance to recomplete something, the quest for Erebor, perhaps?" Legolas raised an eyebrow at Gandalf, who nodded.

"Exactly, Legolas." Gandalf looked at Merry and Pippin with a wry smile. "I did not expect this to be a surprise."

"Like Pippin said, this way was a lot more entertaining." Merry put a pipe in his mouth smugly.

"Well, for us at least." Pippin added as an afterthought, and Kíli laughed.

"I must say that I agree with the hobbits." Suddenly he could no longer keep it in. He burst out laughing once more. "Gimli, the look on your face!"

Fíli snorted softly, but he was able to keep his composure, unlike his younger brother who was long gone. True, Gimli's expression was priceless, but Fíli managed to lost that much control in front of the elf.

"So this is Thranduil's son?" Thorin looked him up and down.

Legolas inclined his head, allowing the dwarf to inspect him all he liked. Gimli had behaved courteously towards the lords and ladies of his own people (though admittedly after a couple of awkward encounters) and Legolas was more than willing to do the same for him.

"Gandalf wishes for you both to join the company."

Everyone in the room could hear the test in Thorin's statement, and for a moment a silence smothered the entire room.

"He does?" Gimli choked. "That would be…an honour."

Thorin nodded and a slight smile spread across his lips as wonder awoke in Gimli's eyes. Then he spoke again. "I am not yet sure of the best path to take. Though I trust Gimli's judgement, and Gandalf's, I would rather know Legolas of Mirkwood a little myself, before any decisions are made."

"That sounds…reasonable." Legolas nodded. "I would expect nothing less."

Gandalf smiled, a little smugly. "Well, that settles that then."

The rest of the evening was spent with idle chatter.

"Gimli!" Kíli called, unable to wipe the grin from his face. "Come and sit with us!"

"You can bring the elf." Fíli added, his gaze fixed on Legolas.

Glóin winked at Gimli who smiled at his father, before walking over to join his friends. As he sat down next to Gimli, Legolas felt a strange sensation in his stomach, one he had not felt for hundreds of years.

_"Ada, they're all staring at me!" the five year old elf hissed, clutching his father's hand. "Ada!" _

_"Of course they're staring at you, Legolas, you are the Prince." Thranduil smiled slightly at his young son, who instantly squirmed and tried to hide behind his father's legs. _

_"Ada, I don' like it!" _

_"You must learn to read and write, Legolas, like everyone else." _

_"Le's go home, Ada, le's go home." Legolas pleaded. _

_Thranduil insisted. "You have to stay, Legolas."_

_Legolas pouted, but sat down nonetheless in front of the tutor, who already had a class of four. Each of the other pairs of eyes were trained on him, and he shifted, uncomfortable. _

_"Ada!" he whispered, but his father left him with a squeeze of the hand. _

_By the time he finally came home, he wanted to burst into tears. He ran into his father's halls, ignoring the other important elven lords and ladies sitting and talking in a circle, and launched into his father's lap. _

_Thranduil glanced down with shock. "Legolas?" _

_"It-it-it was h-h-horrible!" he wailed. _

_"Why?" the king looked confused. _

_"They didn' like me! An' I don' know why!" he howled. _

_"Give it time." Thranduil soothed his son. "They cannot know you enough to form a proper opinion from one day." _

_"What if they don't want to know me?" Legolas sniffled. _

_Ignoring the other Lords, Thranduil wiped the tears away from the little boy's face. "Then they are not worth your time. Not everyone can like you, the same way that you cannot like everyone. The best you can do is try to understand everyone and be the very best that you can be." _

_Legolas sobbed quietly. "I don' want them not to like me!" _

_Thranduil planted a small kiss on his son's head. "I love you, my son, and right now that is all that matters." _

This time Legolas knew exactly why they did not like him, and it was because of his father. Of course, when he thought of his father, he thought of the elf from his memories, the one who rocked him to sleep when he was a babe, the elf who thought him to shoot, who taught him everything he knew. His father, his friend, his counsellor…

When he thought of his father, he did not think of the Elven-King Thranduil. The Elven-King Thranduil was the only side of his father that Thorin Oakenshield had seen. Legolas had a niggling idea in the back of his mind that Thorin might have a point in his opinion of that particular side of Thranduil – there were some decisions his father had made as king that Legolas himself did not particularly agree with.

So yes. Legolas knew exactly why these people did not like him, but it did not quench the wiggling in his stomach. He wondered for a moment exactly why he cared what these people thought of him, but he was distracted by thoughts of what they would now think of Gimli. Had he betrayed his people, by befriending the elf? Some of Legolas' kin had been more than surprised by his friendship with Gimli, and a few had been less than impressed.

Fíli, Kíli and Bofur were already sitting in a sort of semicircle when Legolas and Gimli joined them, and while Kíli's jovial smile welcomed Gimli at least, Fíli and Bofur were sitting with almost identical expressions, down to the pipe each held in their mouths. Their faces were open but their eyes were guarded.

"You are aware, Gimli, that this elf's father threw us all in prison? And that Bilbo had to smuggle us out in barrels? And that Fíli here hasn't been able to eat an apple since?" Bofur raised his eyebrow and pointed at Legolas with his pipe.

"I'm aware of it." Gimli nodded, his tone friendly. "Are you aware that this elf has saved my life more times than I care to count?"

"Really?" Fíli asked curiously.

"Aye," Gimli nodded, "Both on and off the battle field."

"I can imagine why your life would need saving." Kíli scoffed, tactfully breaking the silence before it had a chance to settle. "You always left yourself open when you got angry."

"I did not!" Gimli protested, the child in him awakening with a vengeance. "And I definitely don't now!"

Fíli cleared his throat. "There was that time when you left yourself open in training and he stabbed you, Gimli. And you thought you were going to die."

"T'was a splinter, right lads?" Bofur joined in teasing Gimli, holding his thumb and forefinger a centimetre apart.

Gimli went bright red, but then a grin settled upon his cheeks. "I do recall that being in the same week as the week you ran half a mile from a butterfly because you thought it would sting you, before collapsing in a heap and then, how can I put it, losing control of your bladder, no?"

Kíli's cheeks flushed violently. "That never happened!"

"Oh, I beg to differ." Gimli's grin grew as he recognised the leverage he now had as more and more stories flew to the forefront of his mind.

"Don't make me tell the elf about the ice incident." Kíli narrowed his eyes, but Gimli did not bite.

"Hmm, an incident with Dwalin's sledgehammer and an innocent squirrel springs to mind." Gimli stroked his beard.

A fake laugh escaped Kíli's mouth and he shook his head. "Ah, the days when you ran around naked in front of as many dwarf lords as possible."

"Mistaking your own uncle for a goblin at the age of _eighteen_…"

Kíli's eyes flashed dangerously and an evil grin sent shivers down Fíli, Bofur and Gimli's spines.

As his brother opened his mouth, Fíli stepped in. "I think that now would be a good time to stop."

"But-" Kíli and Gimli protested, and Bofur laughed heartily.

"I remember you two doing that over a hundred years ago when I was lumbered with babysitting the lot of you. Unless you want me to tell the elf about that _specific_ visit I suggest the both of you stop talking."

Instantly the two closed their mouths and glowered at Bofur, and Fíli laughed. "Well done Bofur."

"A hundred years ago…" Kíli mused. "Yet I am still seventy-seventy. I was alive one hundred years ago but I am still seventy-seven. I suppose it's true…"

"Hey, Fíli, your brother's thinking again, this can't be good…" Bofur warned, and Fíli watched his teasing smile contrast with the uncharacteristic tension still lingering in Bofur's warm eyes as they passed over Legolas to reach Kíli. "What's true, laddie?"

"I'm never going to grow up, am I?"

Fíli, Gimli and Bofur all laughed aloud and even Legolas cracked a smile.

Thorin watched them as the evening went on. He did not trust the elf, but as he watched him interact with his sister-sons and with Gimli and Bofur, he watched his enemy's son grow in confidence and tease Gimli, he saw him organise an archery contest with Kíli for the next day. That would be…interesting.

He glanced across the room and saw Bilbo talking quietly with Frodo. He dropped his head and feigned sleep to be alone with his thoughts for a while. He did not know what to think about Bilbo Baggins anymore. They had not spoken much since Bag End, and when they had it had mainly been muttered formalities. He had forgiven Bilbo for the Arkenstone incident, and he had meant what he said. But though he understood the hobbit's reasoning, he could not say that the betrayal was easy for him to take.

Bilbo was a loyal friend and he knew that. He still fit into the company, if anything more so than before. But that did not make anything easier.

"You will have to talk to him sooner or later."

Thorin's eyes snapped open, but Gandalf was not talking to him. He could not see the wizard, but his voice was as clear as day, so whoever he was talking to was close by. As he listened, he was more than surprised to hear Nori reply inthe next room.

"I don't think I can do that."

"Of course you can, Nori. It is not that difficult, he is your brother."

Thorin frowned, closing his eyes once more so he would not be caught eavesdropping. It was a trick he had learnt from Kíli.

"We don't see eye to eye, Gandalf I don't know why it is important anyway. The quest won't fail if Dori and I don't gossip like old women."

Thorin remembered the ever present friction between the mature, parental Dori and the more rebellious, if occasionally criminal, Nori and he knew from Dwalin that the friction had developed and climaxed into a full blown feud over the years. He did not know the cause, and it had not been overly obvious at first with both brothers paying more attention to Ori than to each other, but as days went by the tension seemed to grow. Everyone had felt it, but Thorin was surprised that Gandalf had deemed the matter important enough for intervention.

"For goodness sake! Everyone needs to work together, Nori-"

"He doesn't listen, Gandalf. He never listens." Nori snapped. "Look, we work around it, I don't understand why a brotherly argument is of such great importance to you."

Thorin could hear Gandalf sigh.

"Has losing Ori taught you nothing?"

"Don't talk like that, Gandalf!" Nori hissed. "Losing Ori taught me a _lot _about Dori. And not in the way you're thinking."

The next thing Thorin knew, Nori was stomping past him as if he was an adolescent, the waves of anger radiating off him. Thorin realised that he should probably talk to the dwarves soon. Tension in the company was never a good thing.

**_I hope that wasn't too bad! To make up for the fact this chapter seems a little dull to me, I will give you a little idea of what's next :)_**

**_(which is something I've never done before :P)_**

**_Coming up: _**

**_-Kíli and Legolas have a shooting competition_**

**_-We find out what's wrong with Nori and Dori_**

**_-Thorin and Bilbo might actually have a conversation! (No Bagginshield though folks, we're all friends here, and nada mas, sorry to all you shippers :P) _**

**_Please leave a review saying anything you liked/disliked and anything you want to come up, as I have a pretty firm plot line but am very open to ideas :)_**

**_Thanks for reading! _**


	5. Chapter 5: We Just Disagree

**Hola! Thank you to creepyLotRfangirl55 for reviewing, this chapter is dedicated to you! I won't be able to update for a while because I am going on holiday later, so this is super quick before I go :P It would have been up last night but my computer hated me. A couple of notes - One is that I struggled writing Nori's dialouge so I hope that that was okay, and two is that this story obviously assumes that Legolas has never met the company before. **

**I hope you will…**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Five # We Just Disagree #**

_"Been away, haven't seen you in a while.  
How've you been?  
Have you changed your style and do you think  
That we've grown up differently? Don't seem the same  
Seems you've lost your feel for me_

_So let's leave it alone, 'cause we can't see eye to eye._  
_There ain't no good guys, there ain't no bad guys._  
_There's only you and me and we just disagree._  
_Ooo - ooo - ooohoo oh - oh - o-whoa_

_I'm going back to a place that's far away. How bout you?_  
_Have you got a place to stay? Why should I care?_  
_When I'm just trying to get along We were friends_  
_But now it's the end of our love song..." Billy Dean, We Just Disagree_

Physically the pair could not have looked more different. The dwarf was short and dark, the elf tall and fair. Their expressions, however, could not have been more similar unless they were twins.

Intense concentration burned in both pairs of eyes, and both mouths were set with determination.

_Thud-thud!_

As the official judge of the competition, Pippin scrambled over to inspect the targets. Both arrows were impressively close to the centre of the targets. "Legolas was closer."

As a small smile passed across the elf's face, Kíli clenched his teeth together and his eyes darkened. In seconds he had nocked another bow and drawn the string to his cheek.

"Fire!" Pippin announced again.

_Thud-thud!_

"Well?" Kíli asked impatiently as Pippin examined the targets again.

"Kíli won that time." Pippin declared.

Kíli gave a smug grin as Gandalf cheerfully proclaimed that the next shot would win. Then the wizard paused, and said something quietly to Thorin.

Thorin stroked his chin, looking at his nephew and at the elf with interest before nodding. "I think that sounds like an interesting idea."

"Swap bows, Kíli, Legolas." Gandalf ordered, and their mouths dropped open simultaneously.

"What?" Kíli gaped. "Gandalf, this isn't just any other bow-"

Legolas narrowed his eyes at Gandalf and started objecting in elvish. _"Mithrandir, this is a bow of the Galadhrim! To let another use it-" _

"I know that you are both very fond of your bows, but neither of you are the type to vandalise the other's property, so I do not understand why it would be problematic." Gandalf looked irritated at the protests.

"That thing's taller than me!" Kíli protested, pointing at Legolas' bow.

"Kíli, give him your bow." Thorin ordered with a level stare, and with a glare to his uncle that would have had Dwalin quailing in his boots, Kíli gently held out his beloved bow to Legolas.

Clenching his teeth together, Legolas reluctantly handed his own bow to the dwarf.

Kíli took an arrow that was longer than his arm and nocked it with irritating difficulty. He held the bow that was indeed taller than him and drew back the string, grimacing as he was forced to pull it much further back than usual to allow the string to tighten enough. Legolas, on the other hand, could hardly pull Kíli's small bow back at all.

Gimli laughed at the awkwardness that had replaced their usual grace as both elf and dwarf struggled with the other's weapon.

Pippin scampered out of the way of the targets and yelled, "Fire!" once more.

_Thud-thud!_

For the third and final time, Pippin went over to the targets. His mouth went slack with surprise. "They both hit the same place."

Sure enough, the two arrows were both embedded firmly in the exact same spot of both targets. They had missed the middle of the target and had landed further from the centre than the others, but their position was exactly the same.

"It's a tie!"

"What?" Merry frowned, wondering if Pippin was just trying not to favour one over to other. After inspecting the targets himself, he grinned. "He's right. It's a tie."

Kíli took a moment to smile at the accuracy of the shot given the size of the bow, before grinning at Legolas and holding out the bow. "You're not a bad shot."

Legolas smiled, taking his own bow and handing Kíli's back to him. "You aren't too bad yourself. Your bow is…incredible, for its size."

Fíli smirked. He had often teased Kíli that the way to his heart was through his bow, and he knew that the elf's last four words had greatly elevated his brother's opinion of Legolas.

"I could say the exact same thing about yours." Kíli smiled. "I've never seen craftsmanship like it before…"

"It is a bow of the Galadhrim," Legolas explained. "Made by the elves of Lothlórien. Though I cannot fault the craftsmanship of your own bow."

Kíli beamed and Fíli instantly knew that his brother's opinion of the elf had instantly risen.

As his sister-son and the elf started to talk about archery, Thorin nodded shortly at Fíli and left the courtyard. He needed to think.

Having Legolas could prove as a tactical advantage, he mused, as Mirkwood would be easier to navigate with its prince as their guide. He was obviously a skilled warrior, something that could only be advantageous with an orc pack behind them. From Bilbo's stories of the journey of the fellowship, his watchman skills would be invaluable.

On the other hand, Thorin's distrust and hatred were purely emotional.

The positives were a lot more sensible than the negatives.

Thorin sighed, wishing that it was not his decision to make. For the first time in a long time he wished that he was not the leader of the company. He wished that he was following Balin, or Dwalin or any of them. He wished that at the end of the day the decision was not his, he wished that their failures were not his fault. He wished that he did not have the responsibility of a race on his shoulders.

Thorin wished that he was not of Durin's line.

Then he stopped. He was being ridiculous, he knew that. He took a deep breath and leaned against a nearby statue.

"Thorin? Are you alright?"

Thorin turned to see the asker of the hesitant question. "Bilbo. I am fine."

Bilbo gave a little laugh.

"What?" Thorin frowned.

"Frodo." Bilbo answered simply. "When he was a child, no matter what I asked him the answer would always be 'I'm fine'. The word 'fine' would mean anything from elation to agony."

Thorin smiled wryly, remembering times gone by himself. "I do believe that Fíli would do the same thing."

There was an awkward silence, before Bilbo finally spoke. "Thorin… about um…about the Arkenstone-"

"I said that I forgave you." Thorin did not want to have this conversation now. Not now. There was too much on his mind.

To his surprise, Bilbo stood his ground. "I still want to explain myself. Handing Bard the Arkenstone… I did it because I knew that it was the best thing to do under the circumstances, I did _not_ do it for greed or for spite… I did it because I didn't want you to _starve_ because of dragon sickness. I also didn't want _me_ to starve, but at the end of the day I meant to _help_ you, not betray you."

Thorin was a little stunned at the firm edge to Bilbo's voice, and when he answered his own voice was a little gruffer than usual. "I understand. I stand by what I said then; that if more of us valued cheer and food and song above gold the world would be a merrier place… It would be, and I intend to make my part of the world merrier, whatever my part of the world is." He was not sure what made him say the last part. All he knew was that he meant it most sincerely.

Bilbo did not know what to say. "I'm…I…I'm glad that you understand."

Thorin nodded, before thinking about something seriously. "If there is a next time, I would have you warn me first."

"Warn you?" Bilbo looked confused.

"If I succumb to dragon sickness once more, I would have you tell me, before anyone is forced to make a decision like yours again."

Bilbo paused, his curiosity peaking. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because I know that you will tell me." Thorin replied instantly. "I know that you will tell me the truth."

Bilbo smiled. "If you should succumb to dragon sickness again, I will tell you."

Thorin himself let out a rare smile. "Thank you."

As the day wore on Legolas learnt a lot about Thorin's company, and he started to feel a little more comfortable among them. He knew from Gimli that dwarves were not quick to trust, but he appreciated that several seemed to be trying to keep an open mind, Kíli, Fíli, Bofur and Ori in particular. He also received exciting news from Lord Elrond. His childhood friend, Haradion, was coming down from Mirkwood to Rivendell on 'unrelated' business, and was expected to arrive by the end of the week. Legolas had not seen the elf he considered his brother since before he left for Rivendell himself a year before to join the fellowship, and it was the longest he had ever gone without speaking to his friend, though for an elf it was admittedly not that long a time at all.

As the sun set on the feasting dwarves, Thorin stood up and the table silenced instantly. He had made his decision.

"Legolas, son of Thranduil, if you wish to join this company then I will accept you as a member." He announced slowly.

"Thank you, Thorin Oakenshield." Legolas bowed his head. "If you accept it, I shall willingly become a member of your company."

"Excellent!" Gandalf grinned, and Elrond smiled wryly at the obvious content on his friend's face as his plan came together.

"I am happy to accommodate you for a while; I would recommend that you stay here for around a week." Elrond mused, addressing all of the dwarves. "It will take about that long for Master Bofur to be completely healed."

Bofur winced. He did not like holding the group up, but then again his back was killing him. He had not mentioned it to anyone because he did not want to be a burden, but the pain had grown with a vengeance over the day, and he was not opposed to the idea of waiting for a little while where there were beds and food and running water before moving on into the perilous mountain pass he knew to lie ahead.

Thorin looked over at Bofur and nodded. "Then we will rest here for a week."

Bofur gave a little smile of gratitude.

As it turned out, Thorin did not mean 'rest' the same way that some of them had imagined it. Every day he insisted on intense weapons training, and only Bofur was excused. Nevertheless the mood was fairly light, especially when Merry and Pippin would join them. The older dwarves soon learnt to not to leave them alone with Fíli and Kíli, who seemed to be trying to make up for the lack of pranks in the first part of their journey.

Legolas found that it was easier to get on with the dwarves than he had feared that it would be, and as the days progressed he felt more and more comfortable around them. He would not say that they were all friends, nor did he presume that they trusted him much, but he believed there was enough trust there to work together effectively.

"So Legolas," Gimli asked on the fifth morning as he took a large ladle of porridge at the breakfast table. "Who is this friend of yours that you seem so excited to see?"

"His name is Haradion, son of Gilvuin." Legolas said with a fond smile. "And he is one of my oldest friends."

"How old is that?" Kíli asked curiously.

"I grew up with him." Legolas explained. "I have known him since I was two years old. He is like a brother to me."

"Do you have a brother?" Pippin piped up.

Legolas looked down for a moment. "I did. He was called Cenion. He died five hundred years ago."

"I'm sorry." Kíli murmured sincerely, his gaze flickering to Fíli. He could not imagine four hundred years without his brother. He was not sure he would be able to handle four.

Legolas nodded, before turning to Pippin with interest. "Do you have any brothers?"

"No." Pippin said simply. "I have three older sisters, Pearl, Pimpernel and Pervinca but no brothers. Unfortunately Merry's the closest I've got."

Merry snorted. "And unfortunately for me I'm an only child so Pip's the closest I've got."

Nori, who was sitting next to Merry and pretending not to listen, found himself jealous of the hobbit with no siblings for a split second. Moments later he felt immensely guilty - he loved Ori a lot - but he had been thinking a lot about Dori since his conversation with Gandalf.

_Life had been kind to Nori since the reclamation of Erebor. The grief of losing so many friends in the battle was strong, but the riches he gained meant that he never had to steal again, though the urge often took him. _

_Thirty four years after the battle, when Balin announced his desire to reclaim Moria, Lóni, a dwarf from the Iron Hills, came to Erebor to join him, bringing with him Kára, his younger sister, who wished to see the kingdom under the mountain. Nori had never wanted to settle down with a wife. He always imagined that was the path that Ori would take, and that he, Nori, would ever be the adventurer, the risk taker. _

_Ori, however, chose to go with Balin. And Nori found reason to stay in Erebor with a pair of deep brown eyes. Kára was shy, even for a dwarf woman, but Nori found reason to speak with her when their brothers both departed with Balin. It took but a week before they were courting, and their courtship was short, even by dwarf standards. Within three months of meeting her, Nori took Kára as his wife, and somehow the urges to steal had stopped. He no longer felt the pull of purses waiting to be picked from pockets, and he stole no more. _

_As the years progressed, however, news from Moria began to slow. The families of those who had gone worried, and after a while Nori and Dori stopped talking. For Nori it was too painful to be reminded that someone else was missing Ori, that he was not the only one to feel the void that his little brother left behind. For Dori, he was reminded of how he let his little brother go, how he stayed where he felt safe and did not follow Ori the way he should have. They were still on speaking terms, but they did not speak. _

_Kára was his lifeline; she somehow managed to remain hopeful. Even on the darkest days, when they had not heard from Balin and the others in over twenty years, she would embrace him softly and tell him that they were just too busy. That his brother and her brother had run out of paper, that the ink had all dried up._

_She was the source of the hope that kept him believing in his brother. _

_When news came from Gimli, Nori's hope was shattered. _

_"…they found their bodies, and the Book of Mazarbul. Gimli sends word that they had time enough to bury Balin with dignity before the orcs attacked." The messenger finished with the sad confirmation of the fall of Balin's company. _

_Kára let out a low moan and turned into Nori. He swallowed and held her close, pressing his lips against her hair._

_"He…he also said that if it was any comfort Ori was found with a sword in one hand and the book in the other." The messenger said hesitantly. _

_The words did indeed bring a small smile to Nori's lips. He could imagine the small comfort the paper and ink for Ori in his last moments, but apparently his brother did not agree. _

_"You think that's funny, Nori?" Dori snapped, his eyes full of tears. _

_Nori scowled. "What? How dare you!" _

_"This is your fault! You convinced him to go!" Dori growled. There was a delirious anger in his eyes, but Nori did not care. _

_His own eyes flared with anger and his hands balled into fists. "It was his choice, Dori. You couldn't baby him forever! He was free to make his own choices in life!"_

_"And look where it's got him!" Dori yelled back. _

_"Stop." Kára tugged at Nori's jacket like a frightened child. "Stop, please, Nori." _

_There was a time when Nori would have happily punched his brother for what he had said, and in his grief he was highly tempted, but he did not. Instead, he held his finger up in warning and listened to Kára's pleas._

_"Don't come near me. Stay away from me, Dori, I mean it!" _

_"Gladly!" Dori spat. _

_Nori put an arm around Kára, as much for his support as for hers and turned, hearing Dori's Khuzdul insult as he did. _

_"What did you just say?" he whipped around and did not give his older brother time to answer. "I just lost my _brother, _Dori! I loved him too, even if I thought that he deserved a chance to do what he wanted! How dare you stand there, insult my wife, insult me?" Anger flowed through every vein as he spat out the words. "Stay away from me Dori, I mean it. You are not my brother!" _

_"Nori, please-" Kára began, but she stopped at the look on his face. Out of the couple, she was the only one who looked back at Dori, sobbing on his knees, as they returned to their house. _

_She tried to coax Nori into talking to his last remaining kin many times, but he refused. When he had felt the desire, no, the need, to go to Bag End, she had given him a small package and some food, kissed him and begged him to come back as soon as he could. _

Nori fingered the necklace that hung secretly around his neck. He knew that it had belonged to her mother, and that it was his wife's most prized possession. He knew that it was her way of keeping her near to him. He knew that he hoped that she would reconcile with Dori. He knew that she understood he needed to come. He knew that she hated to be alone.

"Are you alright?"

He looked at Ori's concerned face and snorted. "I'm fine. Just thinking about home. I'm turning into the hobbit."

Ori smiled knowingly. "You've left a bit more behind this time."

Nori nodded with a smile. "That I have."

The dwarves, hobbits and elf spent the morning eating and drinking, and in blissful ignorance.

Had they known of the slaughter occurring half a mile away they would not have eaten as much as they did.

_The orcs surrounded their quarry and outnumbered them greatly. A couple, a child, two guards. This was going to be easy…_

Had they heard the desperate cries of mother, child and father, they would not have drunk as merrily as they did.

_"Haradion! They're everywhere!" _

_"Ada! ADA!" _

_"Meldë, take Nimmeth, run!" _

_"ADA!"_

Had they seen the female elf fall protecting her tiny child and her husband rushing in vain to save his family, they would not have smiled as they did.

_"Meldë!" he cried desperately, leaping from his horse. He threw himself over the still form of his wife which was covering the squirming form of Nimmeth as the orc axe flew toward his head. _

Had they known that Haradion, son of Gilvuin, took his last breath less than five miles away, they would not have laughed as they did.

_The little girl pulled her mother's hair, cowering as the orcs came closer. "Nana, wake up!" _

_She turned to her father, not understanding why his eyes did not see. "Ada, they're coming closer! Ada? ADA!" _

And had they known the reason for the orcs attack, they would not have sung as they did.

Later, when he discovered the reason for the orcs' attack, Legolas would feel as if he would never want to eat or drink or smile or laugh or sing ever again.

He would wonder for the rest of his life why he ignored the gut feeling that something was wrong, why he did not ride out to meet his friend, and why he could not hear the screams of six year old girl as her parents were murdered.

For the moment he was in blissful ignorance.

When enlightenment came, Legolas would never be the same again.

**Thanks for reading!**

**Ooh, what's happening? I know, what do you think? Any theories?**

**I've always found Nori quite interesting, and I hope the back story was okay. It will become more relevant later as well :P**

**PS: The chapter is named for the Nori/Dori bit after a song about disagreeing. I struggled with naming this chapter so that is for why it has such a weird name. **

**Oh, and I don't hate Dori, if you like we can see his POV soon? (it will depend largely on what you want to see :P)**

**Tell me what you want to see crop up next chapter (Which will involve somehow leaving Rivendell) **

**Thanks soooooo much for reading, please take three seconds to leave a review, it would really make my day! Thanks :) **


	6. Chapter 6:Breaking Out and Breaking Down

**Hello my lovlies! Thanks for my reviews last chapter! I'm sorry this took so long, I was in Seville for a week and I haven't been liking this chapter. It is a sort of a filler chapter SORRRYYYYYYYYYY! But either way updates will be faster especially as I know exactly how the next one will go!**

**By the way, I've been getting less and less reviews per chapter. I have however been getting loads of views, so thanks anyway guys! I know this chapter's not that great, so I hope you'll enjoy anyway. I will be back soon with some good stuff!**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Six # Breaking Out and Breaking Down #**

"The end will never come  
There's still a mountain left to climb  
But we will overcome the hurdles placed inside our minds  
(So close, but still so far)  
Each day will bring us brand new scars  
(What are we fighting for)  
We cannot live like this no more

'Cause in the thick of darkened days, we know

We could blame the world forever  
We could just escape together  
So are we breaking out, or are we breaking down  
We can't blame this world forever." Breaking Out and Breaking Down, Bullet For My Valentine

_"Thorin?" _

_Thorin looked at his brother, but for once the words that left Frerin's mouth were all that he heard. The ability of speaking many sentences in a single word seemed to have left him. "Yes?"_

_Frerin turned his gaze over the approaching orcs. "We…I…" he sighed. "Be careful?" _

_"Of course." Thorin nodded, before grinning at his brother. "We will be fine, Frerin." _

_Frerin offered a weaker smile. He did not want to be there, Thorin could see that. _

_"I will protect you, Frerin." Thorin teased. _

_"You will protect _yourself." _Frerin corrected mildly. An orc horn sounded and he looked Thorin in the eye displaying his infinite fear to his elder brother. "So here we go." _

_Endless hours later Thorin stumbled towards the Mirrormere Lake, cradling his injured arm and clutching the old piece of oak that had just saved his life. _

_The lake. _

_That was his destination. That was where Frerin was being herded with several others the last Thorin saw him, and after losing his father and grandfather, all Thorin wanted to do was hide from the people and to hold his baby brother close and cry on Frerin's shoulder. His arm pained him, his whole body did, but he ignored the pain and continued to make his way to the Lake. His mind could barely process his predicament. _

_Azog was defeated. _

_Thror and Thráin were gone. _

_Apart from Frerin and Dís, his family was gone. _

_"Frerin!" he called as motionless bodies came into his view. His heart pounded and he scanned the carcasses praying, though he did not know if he was praying to see his brother or praying not to. _

_There were only a couple of other standing dwarves nearby, but they all averted their eyes as he came closer. They stepped away from the bloodied corpse they were surrounding and Thorin felt the wail rip from his lips. _

_"NO!" _

_His staggering run brought him to Frerin in seconds, but however loud he roared his brother's glassy eyes would not focus. The light behind his eyes was gone. _

_"Frerin!" Thorin called, unashamedly allowing the tears to run down his cheeks. "Wake up, brother, wake up!" _

_He tried to cradle Frerin in his arms, but his brother's head lolled back further than was natural, his throat slit almost all the way across. Thorin cried out in horror but shifted his grip so that Frerin's face fell against his chest. _

_He bowed his head, sobbing and rocking forward and backwards, allowing his hair to fall protectively across Frerin's face, shielding his brother's face from the staring eyes of the other standing dwarves as guilt smothered him. _

_His little brother had died, and he had not been there to protect him. He had protected himself, like Frerin had said he should. He had not protected him. He had not even been there to hear Frerin's last words. _

_He wished that he had died instead. _

_"Frerin!" he whispered feeling utterly broken. "Frerin…" _

The pain that had followed still felt fresh for Thorin, especially on days such as Frerin's birthday, or the anniversary of the Battle of Azanulbizar.

So when the elven scouts had returned with a wounded child and news that Haradion of Rivendell had been murdered, Thorin was not surprised when he felt nothing but sympathy for Legolas, son of Thranduil.

The elf had already described Haradion as a brother, and Thorin would not wish that pain on anybody. Well, there were a few that he thought deserved it, but the elf did definitely not fit in that category.

When Legolas disappeared for the rest of the day, Thorin was not angry. No, Legolas had a right to grieve, and Thorin understood that all too well.

What did surprise him was the intensity of the guilt that he felt.

The six year old elf, Nimmeth, had remained still long enough for the elven healers to remove a three inch nail from her palm, before she succumbed to hysteria. Attached to the filthy iron nail was a bloodied note, demanding the elves sent the dwarves out immediately or face the consequences.

As night fell, the dwarves, the hobbits and the elves gathered along with Gandalf in the beautiful place where Elrond had heard his council the previous year.

"I firmly believe that we should go." Thorin began the discussion. "You have been very generous, and if our staying here endangers your lands I would leave at once."

"I do not think that that would be wise." Elrond's usual calm tone was underlined by steely anger. "We have enough elves to defend our borders for a long while, and hunting parties are out tracking the orcs as we speak."

Thorin started to argue. "This is our fight-"

"And now it is ours as well." Elrond fixed Thorin in his unwavering stare. "Just like you, we do not let the murders of our kin go un-avenged."

Thorin paused, and Gandalf wondered if he would argue. Then the dwarf sat back in his chair. "Very well, what would you have us do?"

Elrond sighed. "I do not know. If we knew who tracked you it would be easier…Who did you tell about your Blessing?"

"We told Sam that we were going to Rivendell to see Bilbo and asked if he wanted to come, but his wife did not want him to leave while she's pregnant and we didn't tell him anything more than that." Merry admitted readily. "To be honest we didn't know much more than that."

"We told our families that we were travelling to Bag End, but when we last saw them we didn't know why we were going, so all they know is that we suddenly lost about sixty years and then went off into the blue." Nori explained.

"Did you send word to your families when you discovered the Blessing?" an elf behind Elrond asked.

"No." Nori shook his head. He had felt a little guilty about not sending word to Kára, but now it definitely seemed like it was for the best.

"So if no one told anyone anything, why is the orc pack so fixated on you that they would do a thing like this?" A new voice asked from the door. Everyone looked around at Legolas, but his haunted, hollow tone held no accusation.

"I do not know." Thorin admitted, his eyes sending his sympathies to Legolas.

"The enemy could be old or new." Gandalf mused. "But I think that it is more likely to be an old an old enemy."

"Such as?" Thorin asked reluctantly.

Gandalf sighed. "I am not entirely sure. It could be one of many."

Kíli tried not to shuffle in his seat like a child as discomfort prickled down his spine. Gandalf's words may have mentioned many enemies, but only one sprang to his mind. Azog. He did not voice his thoughts, but he knew that the others were thinking along the same lines as him.

"If…this had not happened we would be leaving the day after tomorrow, correct?" Legolas checked.

"Yes." Thorin nodded, before pausing. "If you should choose to stay here instead of coming with us, Legolas, I would understand in light of what has happened. I have no objections whatever you choose."

Legolas nodded gratefully at Thorin. The offer to stay in Rivendell was indeed tempting. Many times he had promised Haradion that he would look after Nimmeth should anything happen to him and Meldë. Nimmeth had just witnessed the death of her parents, she had slept most of the day but soon she would wake and the horrors would return to her mind. She needed him. But he had already made up his mind. "I will come, if Lord Elrond will care for Nimmeth until I return."

"We will look after the child." Elrond nodded, but Legolas could read the sentences behind the silence.

He knew that there was a chance he would not return, a relatively high chance if the brutality of the attacks was anything to go by. That would leave Nimmeth in Elrond's care indefinitely, and the Lord of Rivendell's easy acceptance was comforting.

"Thank you, my Lord." Legolas bowed his head.

"Quick question," Merry piped up. "What if the orcs are waiting for you when you leave?"

"Then we will fight them." Thorin did not try to keep the patronising tone away from his voice, but Merry did not mind.

He was used to it and it did not faze him at all. "And if they ambush you?"

Thorin stared at the small hobbit. He had a point.

"We could distract them." Pippin offered. "Not a full blown battle distraction, obviously, but if we made enough noise heading home we could draw their attention away for a while…"

"And how would you plan to do that, Peregrin Took?" Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

Pippin shrugged. "It was just an idea. Besides, we need to get home sooner rather than later to tell Sam what's happened."

Frodo nodded absently. "I think that would be a good idea."

"I think that would be a dangerous idea." Gandalf added.

Elrond looked at the young hobbits thoughtfully. "If we added a little extra thought, that could work."

Pippin could not help but grin smugly, and despite his grief the youngest hobbit's typical antics it brought a little fond smile onto Legolas' face.

-o-o-o-

The orc general watched closely. Any day now the dwarves were expected to leave the safety of the elves. The foolish 'fair folk' had sent out incredibly unsuccessful hunting parties, but they were not planning on being found.

"_Wait!"_ he hissed in the Black Tongue as sounds met his ears.

Chattering sounds, and hoof beats. At least two horses were drawing closer, with ignorant riders.

"_Attack!"_

As the warg he rode leapt from the cover of the forest, the general was a little shocked at what he saw. The riders of the two large horses were tiny little halflings. One rode his own horse, while the two shorter looking ones shared the other beast.

And when the orcs pounced they looked afraid, but not entirely surprised.

_"Chase!" _The general roared, and the entire pack moved in for the kill.

An enormous eruption of sound met their ears and wargs and riders alike screamed in pain as fireworks exploded around them. The general added a thunder of rage to the clash of sounds, and urged his warg on. The halflings were escaping, their horses fleeing in terror from the explosions that were no doubt the devilry of their owners.

Fury sharpened his eyes. _"Tear them apart!" _

One of his archers drew back his bow string, and the arrow smashed into the back of the smaller, dark haired rider that shared the horse with his kin. The halfling fell to the floor but scrambled to his feet as if the arrow was a blunt stick. He must have been wearing a chain mail vest.

The general laughed as the halfling that was still riding cried out in horror and threw his arm towards his fallen kin. His laughter intensified as the rider tried to drag the horse to a stop. The halfling's tugs did next to nothing to stop the spooked horse, and within moments both horses were too far for the helpless halflings to aide their fallen comrade.

"Frodo!" the cries disappeared with the riders.

The halfling named Frodo instantly started to run and the general's laughter increased further. They would be on him in seconds. He could not wait to rip the halfling apart.

His warg shrieked with pain and he crashed to the ground as arrows rained upon them from above.

_"It is a diversion! The dwarves leave by the mountain pass!" _ascout bellowed, and the general roared once more as elvish scum sent volley after volley into their midst.

They were suffering a defeat, but it comforted the general that there were many more of them lying in wait.

He himself chased after the escaping halfling. Seeing red, he barely noticed as they left the carnage behind them, disappearing into the woods. This scum made him lose his prey, and for that he would pay dearly.

Frodo ran as fast as he could. The plan had not exactly failed, but it was not exactly working either. Falling off the horse had not been planned at all – he was just grateful that Bilbo had quietly insisted that he wore the mithril coat beneath his outer garments.

Taking a second to be happy that his young cousins escaped, Frodo ran faster through the woods. Hiding was no longer an option, the solitary orc behind him roared with determination every few moments. The elves were busy with the other orcs; they would not notice his own little plight.

_Why did I leave the Shire again? _He thought miserably, but the answer was right there in the forefront of his mind. _Bilbo. I wanted to see Bilbo. _

He knew exactly where Bilbo, the dwarves, Gandalf and Legolas were at that precise moment – galloping towards the Misty Mountains on the fastest horses the elves possessed. There had been some argument about dwarves riding horses, but most were comfortable to ride with another, especially when Gimli rode behind Legolas with no fuss. They would be riding now, fast, without looking back.

Frodo stumbled as his foot snagged on a tree root and he fell to the floor. He wished he had Sting with him, but he had given the sword back to Bilbo as he had had no desire to use it again. He had taken a knife from Rivendell, but it was attached to Pippin's horse.

He was going to die.

_At least Bilbo is getting away..._ Frodo thought shakily as he winced and waited for the blow to fall. _At least Merry and Pippin are safe._

What he expected was pain. The orc's squeal of agony was not expected.

A stranger's voice opened his eyes. "Are you al- Frodo?"

Frodo looked up in surprise. "Faramir! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same!" The Steward of Gondor cried, instantly dismounting his horse and offering Frodo his hand. "Though as you asked first I will tell you that I am on my way to Rivendell."

"I was part of a distraction," Frodo explained quickly as he accepted Faramir's hand and rose to his feet. "But I fear it went a little badly…"

War cries met their ears and Frodo gratefully accepted Faramir's unspoken offer to join him on the large horse.

In moments they were riding through the woods towards Rivendell once more, though almost immediately stray arrows came worryingly close.

"Thank you, Lord Faramir." Frodo smiled as they entered the safety of Rivendell.

"You are most welcome. Now what on this good earth did I just run into?" Faramir raised an eyebrow.

"I do not know how much I am allowed to tell you…" Frodo worried. "I was part of a distraction, like I said, with my cousins."

"Merry and Pippin?" Faramir asked with worry as Elrond came down the stairs followed by an elf who had been introduced to Frodo as Elladan, his son.

Though both Elrond and Elladan yearned to join the hunting parties, they both remained in Rivendell in case of attack and to look after Nimmeth. Elladan's twin Elrohir was not so patient, and had gone with the hunters to represent the family.

"They escaped." Frodo confirmed.

Taking in the good news of Merry and Pippin's escape, Lord Elrond turned to Frodo. "Are you hurt, Frodo?"

"No, my Lord. Lord Faramir prevented that from happening." Frodo gave Faramir a grateful smile.

Elrond nodded at Faramir. "Lord Faramir, what brings you to Rivendell?"

"I bring news from Gondor and from your daughter, the Lady Arwen, but first and foremost, King Elessar seeks your counsel, my Lord." The Steward of Gondor announced regally. "He would have come himself, but he has many duties tying him to Minas Tirith, and he did not think it wise to leave his kingdom so soon after becoming King."

Lord Elrond nodded with understanding and Frodo listened with interest.

Faramir looked at the hobbit and Elladan in turn. His message was for the ears of Lord Elrond only, but his king often spoke fondly of Elladan and his twin, who Faramir had met at the time of Aragorn's coronation, and Faramir trusted Frodo Baggins with his life. Not to mention that the king trusted Frodo Baggins with his life. "Orcs are crossing our borders with alarming numbers. Scattered as they are they pose little threat, but my King fears that they are answering the call of a leader."

"Which would significantly raise the threat that they pose..." Elrond mused, and Frodo felt a little sick. Once again he had stumbled into something much bigger than he had anticipated.

"For now we are equipped to deal with them ourselves, but the kingdoms of men have all been weakened by the last war and should a full scale attack be launched it could end in disaster."

"The orcs have been weakened to." Elladan reminded the solemn company. "Though they were not dependent on Sauron for life, they relied on him for purpose. As you said, leaderless they pose as little threat for your kingdom. Even if a leader was gathering them together, it would take a good while before they could create an army. They are not the most trusting of folk, and they are not the dumbest either. Some will take some convincing."

"That is true," Elrond agreed thoughtfully.

"That was what Lord Elessar and I thought." Faramir nodded. "But he wishes to know if you have any idea who could be rallying the enemy, or why?"

"I have a few ideas..." Elrond mused. "And I will tell you in full...after I have news from my daughter."

Had the tone been different, Frodo would have perceived Elrond's words as rude, but there was a gentle edge to his voice that made Faramir smile.

"Queen Arwen wishes for me to tell you that she is expecting a child. She also wishes for me to say that you are told you were wrong, and that this baby will be a girl."

Elrond laughed gently, unable to hide the genuine joy in his eyes with his usual calm expression. "That is good news indeed."

Frodo could not help but smile. "When you return, will you give Ara- the King and Queen my fond congratulations?"

"Of course." Faramir smiled, before turning back to business. "Now what of the orcs?"

Lord Elrond showed no hesitation. "The Blessing of the Ancients has been bestowed upon the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

Frodo wondered if the prince had heard of such a thing, but by the awed intake of breath in Faramir's eyes told him that he had. "Really? Incredible..."

He questioned both Elrond and Frodo for a good while with interest, and relayed several less urgent messages to the master of Rivendell as the ate a hearty supper, before sighing. "If I may rest here for a short while, I will take my leave in the morning?"

"Of course." Elrond smiled, leading Faramir to the nearest guest quarters himself.

Frodo slept soundly that night. Dreams of strange colours and foreign music blessed his mind, but he did not stir until sun filtered through the windows and onto his face. He woke and dressed quickly, following Faramir out into the yard. Plans had been made the previous night to ensure a safe journey home for them both - Faramir and Frodo would travel together to the closest town of men with Elladan and the recently returned Elrohir as their guide. There, Frodo would by a pony to take him back to the Shire by a safer road. Frodo was not fazed by the idea of travelling alone, especially when Lord Elrond provided him with another knife.

Sneaking out of Rivendell was a little worrying as they were not sure that all of the orcs had been destroyed, but none troubled them for the first few hours of travelling. Being sufficiently shorter than Merry and Pippin, Frodo could not ride his own horse and so rode behind Faramir. The friendly conversations lulled all four travellers into a false sense of security.

The ambush was completely unexpected.

Orcs flew towards them from the trees. Faramir yelled viscous war cries and instantly started fighting, but before Frodo got the chance to reach his sword an arrow struck the back of the horse. It reared with a scream like whinny and Faramir allowed himself slide down the back of the horse.

Frodo clutched at the reigns desperately.

"Go, Frodo!" Faramir ordered.

Frodo felt sick. He knew that he was a liability to Faramir, Elrohir and Elladan if he stayed, but he could not simply flee! He grabbed his knife but Elladan narrowed his eyes.

The elf cried out in his own tongue and Frodo's horse made the decision for him.

It lurched forward and ran, and as it fled, the same stone of guilt that he guessed had plagued Pippin sat heavily in Frodo's stomach. He stared over his shoulder he did not turn back.

There were only about six orcs, and the elves and Faramir could destroy them.

Frodo was used to making difficult choices, but for once the choice was not his, it was the horse's. There was nothing he could do to slow the horse, all his pleas to stop were met with silence.

The hooves hit the floor and a branch hit his head and Frodo's world faded into black.

**Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review to let me know that you're following! :P It would REALLY make my day :)**

**Soon we will have more of the company, and finally MORE ACTION! Plus Dori's point of view if you like :P**

**Have a nice day!**


	7. Chapter 7: Wherever You Will Go

**HIYA! Thanks for the review!**

**I just want to apologise for the wait. It has been very hard to write recently – my mum is convinced that it is a complete waste of my time and that I should be looking at universities. Can you tell I am running out of chapter names? Either way, I hope this chapter is okay. Next chapter things start to kick off with goblin caves and focus shifts almost entirely to the company FOR AGES so that should be good. **

**Am I wasting my time? Interesting question. I enjoy writing, anyway :P**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Seven # Wherever You Will Go #**

_"So lately, been wondering  
Who will be there to take my place  
When I'm gone, you'll need love  
To light the shadows on your face  
If a great wave shall fall  
It would fall upon us all  
And between the sand and stone  
Could you make it on your own?_

If I could, then I would  
I'll go wherever you will go  
Way up high or down low  
I'll go wherever you will go." Charlene Soria, Wherever You Will Go

Dori was on watch duty with Nori. Though neither brother had protested at Thorin's uncommon request for the two of them to watch together, they were both unhappy with the predicament.

Their leader had spoken of a need for two pairs of eyes on the camp, though he had not said why _those_ two pairs of eyes were required.

Dori watched his brother behind the flickering firelight, his heart heavy. Nori was still and calm, his posture relaxed and his eyes glazed over with the mist of pleasant memories.

Dori guessed that he was thinking of Kára. Despite what Nori thought, Dori liked Kára. He had always liked her and he recognised that she was good for Nori - he had stopped stealing and brawling, he was settling down...

Once Dori had hoped that Nori and Kára would give him nephews or nieces to dote on and care for, and that they would all go and visit Ori in Moria. In Dori's fantasy life, Ori had a fine wife and children of his own, and they lived happily in the same great Kingdom - whether Moria or Erebor it did not matter.

His heart was shattered with the words of a messenger.

_"…they found their bodies, and the Book of Mazarbul. Gimli sends word that they had time enough to bury Balin with dignity before the orcs attacked." The messenger finished with the sad confirmation of the fall of Balin's company. _

_Dori could not breathe. He could not move, he could not think. He had failed, Ori had died. Ori was dead…his little brother was dead. _

_"He…he also said that if it was any comfort Ori was found with a sword in one hand and the book in the other." The messenger said hesitantly. _

_Dori felt anger boil inside him as Nori smirked. "You think that's funny, Nori?" _

_Nori scowled. "How dare you!" _

_"This is your fault! You convinced him to go!" Dori growled, though for a second he wondered if he had misunderstood the curl up of Nori's lips. _

_Nori's eyes flared with anger and his hands balled into fists. "It was his choice, Dori. You couldn't baby him forever! He was free to make his own choices in life!"_

_"And look where it's got him!" Dori yelled back, fighting tears by now. His anger was not meant for Nori, and inside he knew it, but the devil's emotion took a hold of his tongue. _

_"Stop." Kára tugged at Nori's jacket like a frightened child. "Stop, please, Nori." _

_ "Don't come near me. Stay away from me, Dori, I mean it!" _

_"Gladly!" Dori spat, though his heart broke more and more with every word from his brother's mouth. Inside his head, a voice chided him constantly. _Now you are losing both of your brothers!

_The voice was a familiar one. His mother. _

I raised you, I clothed you, I fed you, I looked after you all! And why can't you just listen to Nori? Listening never hurt anyone!

_He did not realise that he muttered an insult to the meddlesome ghost of his mother until Nori turned around. _

_"What did you just say? I just lost my _brother, _Dori! I loved him too, even if I thought that he deserved a chance to do his own thing! How dare you stand there, insult my wife, insult me? You are not my brother!" _

_Dori's mouth dropped open. He had not meant to offend Kára, but he had lost the ability to speak. _

_"Nori, please-" Kára began, but her protests stammered to a stop. _

_Dori fell to his knees, overcome by emotion. Grief blinded him, pain paralysed him, and guilt burnt him. _

Ever since, he had wanted to talk to Nori, wanted to explain, but he did not know how to make the words come. Every day that passed without his apology to Nori, guilt grew in Dori's heart, and the more guilty he felt, the harder speaking to his brother became.

"Dori."

He looked up in surprise as Nori spoke to him.

Once again, he was overwhelmed with the urge to talk to his brother, but the shock of Nori addressing him had sealed his lips, dumbness striking once more in the most irritating place. "Hmm?"

"Watch is over." Dori nodded with a little grunt. Grunts were good; Nori couldn't hear the disappointment in a grunt.

He started to wake the others, starting with Ori, which he regretted when his brother flew from a silent nightmare and a fist flew into Dori's nose.

As Ori apologised profusely, Dori swatted his little brother on the arm with a smile. Amiable silence hung in the air as they packed up camp. They had left the horses once they reached the mountains as planned; the great beasts galloping gracefully and knowingly back to their home.

"A horse is approaching!" Legolas announced, peering over the large boulder that had sheltered them from unfriendly eyes during the night. His eyes widened and a whisper escaped his mouth. "Frodo!"

"What?" Bilbo cried, scrambling up the rock himself. A strangled cry emitted from his throat as he saw his cousin's body dangling from the side of the horse, his arms and legs both tangled in the beast's reigns. "Frodo!"

The poor animal was foaming at the mouth, terror shining in its wild eyes. Its charged seemed undirected, and its stumbling gait told Legolas that the poor creature was pained, afraid, and tiring.

Without a second thought the elf slipped over the edge of the rock, moving slowly but purposefully towards the horse. Fearing that the elf would make matters worse, Thorin started to call out a warning, but Gandalf dragged his arm away, hissing a warning.

"Wait!"

A low humming came from Legolas' throat, rising to musical calls in elvish. As he called, the horse stumbled but slowed, turning its course toward the elf.

Certain that the elf was about to be trampled on, Kíli nocked an arrow, but Gandalf seized his hand. "Kíli, _wait!" _

The horse stopped moments before crushing Legolas, and the elf avoided eye contact with the horse as he ran his hands over its face.

None of the others could hear the elvish murmurs pouring from Legolas' mouth, but they could all see him cut the rope away from the animal and catch Frodo's limp body in his arms. Legolas began to run back to the group, the horse trotting along behind him with a severe limp.

"Frodo!"

Balin winced when he heard Bilbo's desperate call. He did not call like a hobbit afraid of losing his cousin. He did not call like an uncle afraid of losing his nephew. He cried like a father afraid of losing his son. He had heard that cry too many times before. He had heard too many fathers lose their sons. Too many mothers, too. He felt his eyes slide to Kíli and Fíli. Including Dís.

He exhaled in relief as Frodo moaned softly and stretched a little in response to Legolas laying him on the ground.

"Gimli, will you feed the horse?" Legolas asked as he placed experienced hands on the back of Frodo's neck, feeling for broken limbs. "Frodo, can you hear me?"

The hobbit's face was caked with blood, but his eyelids fluttered a little. Óin grabbed his own medicine bag and worked in silent collaboration with Legolas. While Legolas was no healer, he was an elf and therefore possessed both the knowledge and the ability to heal anyway, and Óin had been healing for many, many years.

Óin grunted at his brother wordlessly but Glóin was already there with a bowl of water and a clean cloth. Óin started working on the blood instantly to try and see how seriously Frodo was wounded. His cleaning revealed a wide but relatively shallow gash on his forehead. Splinters were embedded throughout the wound, causing Óin to muse aloud.

"Hit his head on a branch. Or someone did it for him."

"We should get the splinters out," Legolas spoke loud enough for the healer to hear him. "They will increase risk of infection."

Frodo groaned again, his muscles flexing and his fingers opening and closing weakly. Bilbo swallowed, watching as Legolas passed Óin what looked like a metal toothpick. Frodo's eyes began to open when Óin began removing the splinters and his next moan was saturated with pain.

"Frodo, it's alright…" Bilbo soothed hopelessly, coming as close to his cousin as he could. "Can you hear me?"

Slowly, Frodo's eyes focussed. "B-Bilbo?"

The elder hobbit let out a tiny grin. "I'm here."

"We are cleaning out your wound, Frodo." Legolas smiled as the hobbit's confused gaze landed on him.

"Wound?"

"Hit yer head pretty hard there, by the looks." Bofur remarked, skilfully and subtly lightening the mood with his easy tone.

Frodo scrunched up his eyes for a moment.

"What happened?" Bilbo asked anxiously. "Where are Merry and Pippin?"

"They-_OW!" _

Óin did not respond as he removed the last splinter, pressing the cloth against Frodo's forehead. "Bandage, please."

This time it was Gimli on hand to pass his uncle the much needed supplies, and Frodo was able to sit up, though dizziness and nauseous attacked, to allow Óin to bandage his head.

"What happened?" Thorin repeated firmly, and Frodo swallowed, trying to remember.

"Everything went well, until the fireworks spooked the horses. I was knocked off my horse…Merry and Pippin couldn't get back."

"They got away?" Kíli confirmed hopefully, and Frodo nodded, slowly explaining about meeting Faramir and creating the plan. His memories were muddled, but he managed to recall the orcs' third attack and the branch hitting his head.

"So you were only unconscious for an hour or so, if your timeline is not blurred." Legolas mused.

"Better than it could have been." Óin muttered darkly, and several dwarves nodded.

"Well, Frodo Baggins. I am glad to see you all in one piece." Gandalf smiled fondly at the young hobbit. "It seems that fate wishes for you to accompany us."

Frodo looked up, and Thorin considered. "If you wish to travel with us I will not turn you away."

"Well he's certainly not going anywhere!" Bilbo huffed, and Frodo laughed, his mouth falling open with amusement despite the throbbing pain in his skull.

"Bilbo!"

"What?" Bilbo looked firmly at Frodo. "I am _not _about to let you go off into the wilderness alone, wounded, after being attacked by orcs twice. No."

"I don't think that Master Baggins is giving Master Baggins any choice." Kíli piped up with a grin. He liked Frodo, and having another hobbit, even an injured one, in the company could only be a good thing.

"We need to keep moving, but I think my sister-son is right. There is not much of a choice. We will go as slow as we can." Thorin warned, and Frodo nodded, pushing himself onto his feet. The dwarven leader swore to keep an eye on the young halfling, especially when he began to sway.

Bilbo was there in an instant, his arm looping around Frodo's shoulders, taking most of his weight for him. He glanced worriedly at his heir when Frodo leaned into him a little, but the sunny smile his cousin sent him warmed his heart intensely.

Óin also kept a careful eye on the hobbits as they began trekking through the mountains. Frodo stumbled more than the others, but he kept up regardless. Both he and Bilbo wrapped their feet in spare clothing when the snow became unbearable, but neither complained and they forged on. As the days progressed, the weather lightened a little, but the company grew more and more tense. The site of the storm battle and goblin caves was little more than a day away, and though the weather was comfortably clear, the whole company were still on the edge.

Bofur tried to distract himself by musing over where the newest members of the company were fitting in.

While Frodo largely remained in close proximity to Bilbo, Bofur was not very surprised to see him spending a lot of time with Ori, Kíli and Fíli. The youngest four members of the company seemed to intrigue each other – Frodo had been raised on tales of Fíli and Kíli's mischief and the dwarves were amazed at how a young hobbit had saved the entire world, so they were never short of anything to talk about. They had got on well in Rivendell, and Bofur was happy to see the four laughing and joking.

Gimli had surprised Bofur initially; though with retrospect his tendency to spend more time with his father and the older dwarves than the younger ones made sense. He remembered Gimli as a child, constantly trailing after his cousins. They had in turn taught the boy all they knew. Gimli was crushed when they died. Bofur had originally thought that Gimli would have spent all his time with Fíli and Kíli, catching them up on everything, but he did not. He spent time with them, certainly, and a good deal of it, but he spent more with the older dwarves. It had not taken Bofur long to suppose that it was because Gimli was now more mature than his older cousins, by a long way, both mentally and physically. They were not exactly children themselves, but Bofur thought that Gimli felt alienated by the youth of the older dwarves and Bofur did not blame him.

_"RAWR!"_

_"Eeek!"_

_"Die, dragon, die!"_

_"Ow, Gimli, that's my-"_

_"Fíli!" Kíli and Gimli cried out with horror. _

_"Sorry, I mean RAWR!"_

_Bofur stepped out of his toyshop into a battlefield. The twenty year old, thirty five year old and forty year old were rolling around on the floor like animals. Fíli's was ticking Kíli mercilessly, and Gimli was smacking Fíli with a little wooden sword._

_"What on earth is going on out here?" Bofur asked, amused._

_"I'm a dragon." Fíli explained as if the toymaker was a simpleton. "And Kíli is dying, to protect Gimli from my ticklerous rage."_

_"Ticklerous?" Bofur raised an eyebrow, amused at the matter-of-fact tone to the dishevelled dwarfling's voice._

_"Like murderous-" Kíli wheezed between eeks and giggles. "But – only – with – tickling!"_

_"I see."_

_"An' I'm going to save Kíli." Gimli said with determination, returning to the attack on Fíli's arm. The blonde was surprisingly easy with having his little cousin hitting his arm repeatedly with his wooden sword._

_"Are you now?"_

_"Save – yourself!" Kíli laughed as Fíli tickled him under the arms._

_Gimli dropped the sword and turned away, before running at Fíli and jumping on his back, taking the older child by surprise and wrestling him away from his brother. _

_"Ha ha!" Kíli screamed with delight, scrambling to his feet. _

_"Idiots." A voice muttered, and all three boys stiffened as Calder, a local smith's son walked past, giving them a scathing look. "Where's your beard, Gimli?"_

_"Leave him alone!" Kíli's voice hardened instantly and his hands balled into fists, though Fíli pulled him back calmly. Kíli had a little stubble, of which he was very proud_ (which was funny, thought Bofur, because one hundred and four years later his stubble showed no signs of becoming anything more) _and he was the only one allowed to tease Gimli about his lack of a beard. "He's just a kid, Calder." _

_"Why don't you just leave?" Fíli's voice was the perfect balance of calm and cold, and the boy narrowed his eyes. _

_"Make me." _

_The three lurched forwards instantly but Bofur shouted. "Hey, hey, hey! Stop right there, I won't have people fighting outside of my shop! Get out of here!" _

_Calder scowled and moved on. He was not a bad lad, not really, but he was in a foul mood and dwarves were not renowned for their tolerance. _

_"You three need to keep out of trouble." Bofur struggled to keep the fond tone out of his voice. "Off with you all." _

_The three children apologised to Bofur sheepishly, pushing each other playfully as they ran away. _

It was hard for him to realise that they would never again have that relationship. Gimli no longer needed protecting. Fíli was no longer the most mature of the three. Kíli's short temper had lengthened, a little. They were almost completely separate from the boys he had known when they were children.

Legolas stayed mostly where Gimli was, though if he was not by the young dwarf's side he was usually speaking to Bilbo, Frodo or occasionally Kíli. The youngest heir of Durin was warming steadily to the elven prince, and the two could talk to each other for what seemed like hours about various archery tactics.

A soft, grey covering of clouds spurred the dwarves on faster, and many a curse was uttered as light rain began to fall.

"Ah…we may have a problem." Bilbo, who had been leading the group due to his sharp memory of the last journey and his maps, stopped still.

"What?" Thorin called from the back with trepidation. He had subtly manoeuvred himself to be directly behind Fíli and Kíli when they had moved onto the infamous pathway. His sister-sons had not even tried to be subtle – Kíli stuck so close to Fíli that it was a wonder they did not knock each other off.

"We've reached the place where the rock split, last time." Bilbo worried. "The path is completely gone."

"What?"

"Our path. It's down there, at the bottom of the chasm. On the legs of the stone giant. All that is in front of me is a solid rock wall."

Thorin swore loudly. "Is there no way on?"

"There is." Came the nervous reply. "But we would have to climb…"

"Gandalf?" Frodo asked hopefully. He was sure that the wizard was using magic already just to stay on the thin path. "Can you do something?"

Gandalf sighed heavily, looking around. "Well…"

The whole company waited with excitement, and Gandalf sighed once more. Magic was a tricky business, and it was not something that he could use excessively.

He muttered under his breath and the rock in front of them cracked, creating a makeshift bridge.

The cheer that rose up among the company reminded him of the cheers of the children he created fireworks for, and he let out a small chuckle himself as they went across the bridge.

Their newfound happiness was quenched when they reached the other side. A cave lay just ahead.

A very familiar cave.

"Do we have to go through goblin town?" Kíli winced.

"Unfortunately, yes. It would be best to retrace your steps as closely as possible." Gandalf nodded gravely.

"I'm not sure we can survive that again, Gandalf." Balin noted.

"We shall have to hope to travel unnoticed."

"Unnoticed?" Frodo raised an eyebrow. "Travel _underground, _hoping to be _unnoticed, _in a place full of _goblins? _That sounds strangely familiar. And the situation I think of did not end well."

Gandalf smiled sympathetically at the wary young hobbit. "I remember, Frodo. But we do not have much choice. I will be with you."

"And we just stick with the plan?" Dwalin asked incredulously. "You think it will work?"

"It must." Thorin said firmly.

They slowly made their way into the cave and quickly settled down 'to sleep'.

Kíli smiled as Fíli looped the rope loosely around their belts and a nearby rock. "You think the plan will work?"

"Thorin trusts the plan. So do I." Fíli said calmly, leaning a little against Kíli.

Kíli was not so sure, but he closed his eyes regardless, unaware of the horrors that would haunt him from the moment he opened his eyes.

**Okays, sorry for any mistakes. **

**BTW, any and all flashbacks are relavant straight away and later on so bear with :P**

**Next chapter = my forte. AKA mega angst. This is where the story takes a turn for the different and hopefully interesting. I know I have said this for a while, sorry :( I mean it now!**

**PLLLLEEEAASSSE review and convince my mother that this fic is worth writing! :) Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8: Run For Your Life

**Thank you all so so much! It's so nice to know that people are enjoying this. Also, it was my birthday on Wednesday and I like reading over reviews on my birthday :) **

**I hope that this chapter is okay, I enjoyed reading it. The angst and the troubles begin now. **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Eight # Run For Your Life #**

_"You'll find more, you'll find more than this  
Take the world that's at your fingertips  
Don't waste time, don't waste time with this  
Take your love and start again_

So run for your life, run for your life  
If you leave me behind, you'll get there in time." Matt Cardle – Run For You Life

Thorin was ripped from sleep as the floor disappeared from beneath him and the rope tied to his belt stopped his fall short. The dark was endless below them, and Thorin would never admit it but he felt dizzy when he thought of the limitless fall.

He could hear a series of low and muted groans that told him that all of the ropes held firm, even Bombur's. So, for a moment, the plan was working.

"Hold…" he muttered, waiting for the sign.

_One…_

A far off squeal rang in the darkness…

_Two…_

The goblins knew they were there…

_Three…_

A flash of blue light illuminated the tunnel for a second and Thorin gripped the rope tightly as they plunged down through the pits. Suddenly the rope jerked to a stop again and Thorin groaned, the belt digging into his stomach. According to the plan they were supposed to have reached the floor, but to his dismay, the dark was absolute and the floor was most definitely _not_ beneath his feet.

"What do we do now?" Dori's agitated mutter met his ears. "Mr Gandalf said it would reach the bottom!"

"The bottom is a long way down." Legolas murmured uneasily. "But there are tunnels, over there."

"Over where?" Thorin growled, his voice low. He could not see a thing.

"Behind you, Thorin. If we could get momentum we could try down to them, there is a good chance that they might lead us out of the mountain. It won't take long before the goblins follow us down, and it seems that Gandalf cannot lower us any further." Legolas' voice was embodied in the darkness.

Thorin clenched his teeth together. Gandalf had declared that he could not join them through the goblin tunnels and that he would meet them on the other side, but he was keeping up with the plan devised in Rivendell and supervising the lowering of the ropes. Their lives were in the wizard's hands, but the wizard would not even come with them.

Suddenly something banged into his legs and he was swinging backwards. Before he could so much as grunt his feet touched the hard rock ground that Legolas had spoken of. Glad that he had never been one for freezing in shock, Thorin thrust himself forward to prevent the rope from dragging him back. He tugged it three times to pass the signal up to Gandalf to release the rope.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness just enough to see two familiar lumps swinging towards him. Instinctively he grabbed their arms and dragged them towards him. Kíli and Fíli's familiar voices thanked him quietly, and Thorin clamped a hand on the nearest dwarf's arm fondly.

As Thorin's eyes slowly accustomed further, he saw Legolas, who had somehow kept gaining momentum, pushing his company one by one toward the relative safety of the ledge they were standing on.

As Frodo swung to safety, fire fell from the darkness and Thorin jerked back as the torch landed at his feet.

"Hurry!" Balin cried rather unnecessarily, but his wise eyes were fixed on the now highly visible Dwalin, who was one of three yet to be delivered to the edge, excluding Legolas himself.

Excited whoops and shrieks of goblins grew louder by the second and Thorin watched with hidden anxiety as Legolas swung himself into the next dwarf, Óin, leaving only Dwalin, Bilbo and himself dangling above the abyss. The elf moved with a fluidity and grace that many would find mesmerising as he pulled back, preparing to knock Dwalin forward.

"NO!" Kíli roared suddenly, pulling his bow from his back and releasing an arrow faster than Thorin could blink. A goblin squealed and fell from the sky but the damage was done. The damage caused by the goblin's sword.

The damage to Legolas' rope.

The elf's eyes widened as he fell suddenly and swiftly. Dwalin let himself fall and kicked out at the elf, who grabbed onto Dwalin's boots.

"Forgive me!" Legolas muttered, and Thorin thought he saw the elf blush with humiliation. The tiny seed of childish innocence that remained buried deep in his heart was laughing its head off at the sight of Dwalin and Legolas hanging attached to each other. Of each of the dwarves, Dwalin was one of the least comfortable with Legolas and Legolas was visibly uncomfortable with Dwalin, and that tiny, constantly oppressed child that remained in Thorin's heart delighted in the hilarious discomfort of the other two.

However, the adult Thorin was the one that acted. And also was the one that saw. He could practically see Bilbo's brain working overtime to try and save all their lives, but the hobbit was helpless to stop the goblins now sliding down the rope faster than Kíli could shoot them.

If the goblins reached Bilbo they would all be in trouble.

More of them were already sawing at the rope holding Dwalin and Legolas, who were desperately trying to gain momentum without tearing themselves down. Kíli was now shooting arrows faster than he could load them and Ori's trusty sling shot was all but a blur, but too few enemies fell.

"Bilbo!" Frodo yelled fearfully as the older hobbit's eyes hardened. "No!"

Thorin looked at the younger hobbit in confusion, but Frodo's eyes were boring into Bilbo's, an imploring look spilling out of them.

Thorin watched as Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut and tugged on the rope three times.

"No!" He roared as Frodo cried the same word in anguish.

Bilbo's rope fell loose and the hobbit plummeted down into the black, along with several squealing goblins.

"Bilbo!" Frodo tried to run forward but Gimli threw his hand across his chest.

"You can't follow him, lad."

Frodo's distraught eyes were burning Thorin, and their gaze was not even directed at him. He walked up to Gimli and put a hand on the young hobbit's arm, whispering in his ear.

"We _will _come back for him, down the tunnels, but we cannot follow him that way."

Frodo turned and looked at Thorin with a tortured expression but he nodded. Thorin's eyes flew back to Dwalin. If the dwarf did not gain momentum soon he would die. They would both die, Legolas and Dwalin.

Legolas knew it too. Thorin knew that he could. He watched with growing dread as Legolas closed his eyes. The elf's lips moved quickly and then he let go, using every last inch of energy and momentum to drive Dwalin forward and give him a chance for safety.

"No!" This time Gimli, Frodo and Kíli all had to be pushed away from the edge as Dwalin's feet missed the age and the elf plunged into the abyss without so much as a cry.

Thorin had known Dwalin since the latter was born, and he could easily read the other dwarf's eyes.

_The elf and the hobbit had sacrificed themselves for their friends, while he dangled pathetically from a rope, unable to even reach the edge._

"No!" Thorin ordered, but Dwalin was not having any of it.

Even Glóin cried out as Dwalin tugged his rope three times with a roar of 'run'.

Regret and numbed grief pounding at the hard walls of his heart, Thorin seconded the order. "Run!"

A startled yelp from Nori was accompanied by a fiery burst of light and Thorin was pushed aside by Dori.

He lunged forward, shoving his brother to the floor and kicking the flaming arrow out of his brother's boot. He and roughly rolled him across the floor, extinguishing the flames that had attacked his brother's coat.

"Into the tunnels!" Thorin ordered, grabbing the bags attached to Kíli and Fíli's backs and shoving them into the nearest tunnel, standing back to allow the others to pass.

_Thud, thud, thud! _

The ground at his feet burst into flames and Thorin staggered back, shielding his face with his arm.

The flaming arrows separated his nephews and himself from the company and he drew his sword.

"Follow the plan!" He roared over the flames, and through their fiery tongues he could see Bofur lead the way into the next tunnel, followed by Gimli and then Bifur, who was supporting a white-faced Balin.

Relief flooded Thorin momentarily as he knew that the company would be together.

It lasted five seconds. It lasted until Óin made to follow. A loud bang that was followed by a loud crack and the sickening laughs of the goblins split the rock above the tunnel door, piling rocks above the door.

Pride swelled over Thorin as Ori pulled the old healer to the next tunnel, ushering Glóin and Bombur through and reaching out to his brothers. Thorin's pride turned to horror as flaming arrow struck the young dwarf's arm.

Dori and Nori both lurched forward but Ori was quick to smack his arm against the damp cave wall and muffle out the flames.

_Bang! _

Thorin flinched away from and Dori's agonised scream drew him back.

Where Ori had been standing seconds before there was a pile of rubble, tainted with silver veins.

_Magnesium. _

A faint call replied to Dori's...

"I am fine, Dori, Nori, Frodo - run!"

Ori's weak tone sent Nori into action, and Thorin squinted through the smoke until he saw Nori shove Dori down the fourth and final passage, dragging a dazed Frodo with him.

Then Thorin turned.

"What happened?" Fíli murmured, with worried eyes.

"We've been separated, we have to go."

Kíli and Fíli nodded their faces grave as they turned and ran.

The familiar tingle of adrenalin in Thorin's veins surged as goblins came from holes in the walls with weapons and chains, and pride swelled within him once again as his nephews slashed at their attackers.

They took down any of the vile creatures that came close, meticulously watching each other's backs. Drawing orcrist with a loud battle cry, Thorin joined them slashing and stabbing endlessly as they tore through the tunnels.

Their well devised plan was not going very well, and all that was left to do was to find their way out of the mountain and rendezvous with Gandalf when they could.

Rounding a corner, suddenly Kíli froze. "It's a dead end!"

Thorin cursed. "Get behind me."

"No." Fíli insisted calmly as the goblins screams came closer. "We'll stand beside you."

_You've already proved yourself!_ Thorin screamed internally. _Get behind me, I can't see you suffer! _

But that was not the way their society worked. To force them behind him now would dishonour them.

He nodded, not trusting himself to talk.

"Fíli..." Kíli whispered. Thorin pretended not to hear the younger brother's plea to the older. "Be careful."

Fíli flashed a grin at Kíli and the goblins silenced. There was no noise. No movement.

Thorin frowned but did not drop his guard for a moment. For an endless minute they stood side by side in silence.

It was Fíli who broke the silence with a soft moan as a silver flash caught Thorin's eye.

"Don't move-" a particularly ugly goblin snarled, its disfigured fingers wrapped in Fíli's hair and its wicked knife pressed against his exposed neck.

Thorin's instinct was to smash the knife away but before he could so much as twitch a previously unseen goblin fell from the ceiling onto Kíli's back.

Instantly the triumphant squeals of the goblins exploded into being and they rounded the corner with torches and weapons. Standing before Thorin was a goblin who looked marginally more intelligent than the others.

"Drop your weapons or they die!"

There was a moment of hesitation and the goblin holding Fíli pressed the knife closer, drawing blood and a little hiss.

Instantly Kíli's weapon fell to the floor with a clang, and Thorin's was not far behind. Fíli himself was the last person to drop his sword, and the moment he did they were swarmed upon, and Thorin's heart sank.

They were heading to an almost certain fate of torture and death. Fíli and Kíli, who had died for him once, were going to die once more because he had picked the wrong tunnel.

They were caught.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Bifur ran at the rear of his little group, faithfully following the lead of his cousin and protecting Gimli, Balin and Bofur from anything that could threaten them from behind.

His head was throbbing again, not that he had ever or would ever admit it, a clear sign of the fear and anticipation of a coming conflict and his heart was pounding with adrenalin fuelled fear of another kind.

Bifur liked Legolas, much to the elf's surprise (though not to the surprise of the other dwarves who knew of Bifur's higher tolerance level) and Dwalin and Bilbo were both well within the tight ring of people that Bifur considered family, and he was afraid that they could be lost forever.

Unlike Balin, who was in a grieved daze, Bifur did not _believe_ that his friends were dead. He had full faith that they could survive the fall.

Despite his gruff demeanour, Bifur clung to hope and optimism as much as Bofur did, and in the darkest of times he always tried to see the light. Bilbo had survived a fall in these tunnels before. His cousin Bombur and the others they had been separated from were more than capable.

They _would_ survive.

Bifur knew that they could. He could see that the others did not hold as much hope - Bofur's eyes flashed dread at Bifur every time he turned, Balin had crystallised tears on his cheeks, and Gimli's eyes were wide as his mouth moved with meaningless mutters.

A light appeared ahead, and Bofur made a beeline towards the exit. Bifur's eyes narrowed as he inspected the growing gap, his hair blown back by the cold air that hit them all. Suddenly he lunged forward, knocking Gimli and Balin aside, to grab Bofur by the hair and drag him back into the darkness.

Bofur let out a shocked cry but Bifur dragged him aside, his hands flying into iglishmêk.

"Orcs?" Bofur frowned, looking out of the tunnel, before staggering back out of the way. "Oh...no..."

The entire hillside was swarming with what looked like around seventy orcs, scouring the snowy mountains.

"What? What is it?" Gimli asked gruffly.

"Orcs." Bofur replied.

Anger bubbling in his veins, Gimli growled. "We can take 'em."

"No, we can't." Balin interrupted, his voice hollow. "We're too outnumbered."

"We can't just sit here-"

"Yes we can." Bofur interrupted. "We don't have a choice."

Bifur listened to the conversation without giving his opinion, until at last he sat down with a low growl. Three pairs of hollow eyes stared at him and he sighed.

He did not know how to articulate how he felt. He did not know how to comfort the others. He did not know whether they would last the night before the goblins found a way into the tunnel.

He just knew that the best thing to do was to stay put and wait for whichever fate would be theirs to show its undoubtedly ugly face.

**I hope that was okay. I am wondering if it was a little disjointed... PLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSEEEEEE EEEEEE review! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**PS: This was written largely while watching ****_Being Human, _****a British TV show with Aidan Turner aka Kíli in it. It is bloody epic and I highly recommend it! Does anyone else watch it?**


	9. Chapter 9: Deliver Us From Evil

**Howdy! Thank you for my reviews, favourites and follows. This is a bit of a shorter chapter than usual but I hope it will be good! Sorry for the slight discrpencies, I have tried to clear things up here. **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Nine # Deliver us From Evil #**

_"So now I hope you see  
I'm nothing more than human  
Making plans for enemies  
But here we go again  
Deliver us from evil  
Crawling back to insanity_

Will darkness turn to light  
Will darkness turn to light  
Can someone wake me from this nightmare?" Bullet For My Valentine – Deliver Us From Evil

The first time Bilbo fell in the goblin caves, he had landed in some sort of large fungus which had broken his fall.

The second time Bilbo fell in the goblin caves he was not so lucky. Icy water broke his fall, the impact smashing his legs painfully. As his head was enveloped in the black water Bilbo's entire body seized up and he could not breathe. Panic overwhelmed him as his feet ignored his brain's frantic pleas to kick.

He was going to drown, if he did not go into shock first. His body would not respond to his brain, though he _knew _exactly what he was going to do, what he _should _do.

Was this how Drogo and Primula had felt before they died? At least they had been together…

The water around him was suddenly displaced and he instantly knew that someone else had fallen into the icy hell with him, probably Legolas judging by the distance that Bilbo himself was pushed down by the water. Moments later another muffled splash told him that Dwalin too had fallen and that like his dear cousins he would not be drowning alone.

Once the initial panic faded a little, Bilbo started to accept his fate and made him panic even more as memories flashed before his eyes.

_"Sleep, my little Bilbo, sleep my baby…" Warm arms held him tightly, rocking him gently from side to side…_

_"I am Bilbo the great explorer! I will find the elves and befriend them and get lots and lots of sugar cookies!" He stood atop a small grassy boulder, using a branch as a walking stick... _

_"I am looking for someone to share in an adventure…" Gandalf stood over him, smoke lingering in the air..._

_"He's been lost ever since he left home. He should never have come. He has no place amongst us." Cold words bit into his heart and he knew that they were right..._

_"I wish you all the luck in the world." Friendship and loyalty, so genuine, so true, rang loudly from the mouth between the pigtails and the hat..._

_"What has it got in its nasty little pocketses?" A hiss in the darkness sent chills down his spine..._

_"Never have I been so wrong in all my life." Dragged into a rough embrace, he felt useful, he felt happy, he was _doing_ something..._

_"I come from under the hill, and under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air. I am he that walks unseen. I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number. I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of bag, but no bag went over me. I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ring-winner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider." Fear could not freeze his head or his tongue as much as it froze his heart as he riddled his way out of a conversation with a dragon..._

_"There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!" His heart broke as he lost another friend, as his world was blurred and confused..._

_"This is your Uncle Bilbo. Bilbo, meet Frodo…" A little baby was placed into his arms and he smiled, and the baby smiled back..._

_"Drogo Baggins an' 'is wife. They're dead." Once more words changed his world, harsh words..._

_"I can come and live you?" Hope shone from every syllable spilling from the constantly disregarded young hobbit's face..._

_"I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread." Admittance of his feelings tumbled out to Gandalf and he wanted to sleep..._

_"I'm sorry for everyth-"_

Bilbo automatically gasped as his head broke above the water, choking and spluttering and suddenly his limbs obeyed and he was splashing and struggling against _arms, _arms were _holding _him, he had been saved…

What?

"Bilbo!" Legolas spluttered. "Are you hurt?"

Teeth chattering, Bilbo stammered. "I-I-I don't th-think s-s-s-so."

"Can you tread water?"

"W-w-what?"

"Kick your legs and make little circles with your hands." Legolas instructed and Bilbo obeyed, but his limbs still felt like lead, heavy and hard to move. It was terrifying, not being able to see the elf that spoke to him, but a soft splash and the absence of breathing told Bilbo that Legolas had slipped under the water.

"Legolas?" he cried. Could elves drown?

Next thing he knew more splutters and splashes mixed with curses rose to his ears.

"Dw-Dwalin?" Bilbo wondered if the others heard his chattering teeth louder than his voice.

A string of Khuzdul cuss words confirmed the tough dwarf's presence in the water, and suddenly there was a hand on his arm pulling him through the water to a cold rocky surface. Bilbo's fingers turned to claws as he grappled at the rock, scrambling and dragging himself out of the water.

He spluttered and flopped over on the hard cold ground. "Th-thank you."

"No problem." Legolas panted. "Dwalin-"

"Thank you." The dwarf spat gruffly, and Bilbo could tell that it was not an easy thing for the dwarf to say.

"Legolas, c-can you see?" Bilbo shook his head. "Sorry, stupid question."

"I can see." Legolas replied. "We are alone."

"B-but goblins fell t-to." Bilbo tried to stop his shudders.

"They cannot swim." Dwalin butted in.

"Neither can hobbits, really." Bilbo replied. "So thank you, Legolas."

A hand clamped on his shoulder. "Again, it is nothing, Bilbo. You're freezing."

Bilbo gave a hollow laugh. "Aren't you?"

"Not really. Dwalin, are-"

"I'm not cold." The dwarf replied gruffly.

"Is there a way out?" Bilbo asked, trying to squint through the pitch black.

"There is a tunnel to your right. I do not know where it leads."

Dwalin snorted. "Well this was a great plan!"

"I sounded good in Rivendell." Bilbo reasoned, but Dwalin was not interested.

"Sounded good? What sounded good about being lowered into a mountain by a wizard and then trying to sneak through a maze of tunnels without a map or direction?" Dwalin spat, and Bilbo remembered that he had been one of the few that had disputed the original plan.

"Well it sounded better than being tortured and killed." Bilbo shrugged.

Dwalin snorted but did not say anything.

"Let's go." Legolas tapped Bilbo's wrist, pulling it for a second before letting go to show Bilbo the direction he had to walk in.

Bilbo walked forward blindly, his arms held out in front of him as he followed the elf. Bilbo's eyes were dragged suddenly to a flicker of light and he turned.

Dwalin had lit a small lantern and he passed it to Bilbo, his face as unreadable as ever.

"Thank you." Bilbo said sincerely, his fingers soaking up the little warmth that the lantern produced.

The three began walking through the cold tunnels. The tunnels were silent, which was both a relief and a worry to Bilbo – the lack of goblins was welcome but the silence was unnerving.

To his horror, the tunnels grew colder as they were led deeper, and the shuddering started once more with a vengeance. Both Legolas and Dwalin were little affected by the cold, but both of them noticed Bilbo's lips turning blue.

Dwalin stopped and the other two paused as the dwarf rummaged through his bag, pulling out something wrapped in a waterproof leather bag.

"Here."

Bilbo took it with surprise, unwrapping the heavy cloak. "Dwalin, are you sure that-"

"Always waterproof your spare cloak." Dwalin gave Bilbo a rare smile which the hobbit returned gratefully, slinging the heavy fabric over his shoulders.

It was not warm but it was not wet, and Bilbo pulled it tightly across himself. Dwalin nodded at Legolas and they delved further into the dark tunnels.

"Is any of this familiar, Bilbo?" Legolas asked without much hope.

"No," Bilbo shook his head. "When I met Gollum I was in an entirely different part of Goblin Town."

Legolas winced and looked around, before looking defeated. "We need to move Eastward but I don't know which way that is."

"East?" Dwalin asked. "It's that way, I think."

"How do you know?" Legolas frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

"I gotta good sense of direction." Dwalin stiffly nodded towards the direction he had pointed at earlier. "Especially underground. If we want to be heading east we should be heading that-a-way."

Legolas shrugged and gestured for Dwalin to take the lead. The dwarf puffed up a little as he stalked past, and Bilbo followed him, allowing Legolas to take the rear.

Bilbo sighed. It _had _to be those two. Apart from Thorin, Dwalin was the least trusting of Legolas, and even Thorin was capable of largely hiding his distrust. Likewise, Legolas was never comfortable around Dwalin, preferring to spend more time with the younger dwarves.

Bilbo trusted them both completely, and found the added tension quite irritating. There was quite enough tension already.

"Bilbo?"

The hobbit accepted the lembas bread from Legolas gratefully. Stiffly, the elf offered Dwalin a loaf of his people's way bread. Dwalin glowered at it for a second and shook his head.

Bilbo sighed, his thoughts tainted with sarcasm.

_Well, this is going to be fun. _

_~ The Hobbit ~_

_"I remember, Frodo. But we do not have much choice. I will be with you." _

So where are you, Gandalf?

Frodo stumbled after Nori and Dori, tears clouding his vision and shrieks nipping at his heels, just as the goblins they belonged to soon would.

_Gandalf, where are you? Why did you say you would come if you wouldn't? _

He understood, a little. Gandalf had explained to Thorin minutes before Frodo had gone to sleep that he could not travel down into the goblin caves when he had not the last time. Frodo was just upset that Gandalf said he would come with them, even if he later passed it off as a slip of the tongue.

He stumbled over a rock and continued to run, as fast as he could, following Nori and Dori through the deadly labyrinth. A clammy hand wrapped around his ankle and pulled him over.

Frodo screamed as he fell flat on his face and the arm kept dragging him backwards, his face smashing into the jagged rocks that lined the floor.

Dori turned when he heard the halfling's screams. A goblin was dragging Bilbo's cousin away, into the thriving gaggle of goblins behind them. Without a second thought he turned, throwing a nearby rock at the goblin. It squealed in pain but did not release its grip.

The dwarf lurched forward and stabbed the foul creature in the eye, killing it instantly. He tugged Frodo to his feet and started to run again but it was taking too long for Frodo to gain his footing.

Dori swung his friend's heir onto his back, the way he had carried Ori in their games when they were only children and ran faster. He was not about to let the cousin of Bilbo Baggins fall prey to some savage goblins.

Nori finally stopped glancing over his shoulder as Dori caught up and the brothers ran. Frodo was surprised that Dori could run so fast weighed down by his whole body weight, but run he did.

"Whoa!" Nori held a hand out to prevent the other two from falling down a pitfall. "This way!"

Frodo took the opportunity provided by the pause to scramble off of Dori's back. The older dwarf's hand found the small of his back and guided him to the middle. Nori continued to run ahead and Frodo concentrated on where his feet where were falling. He started to wonder if they could ever escape when light shone ahead. His mouth turned up in a smile of hope, but it slowly turned into a little 'o' horror when he saw the source.

A fire.

A fire surrounded by dancing goblins.

"Nori, are there any side tunnels?" Frodo cried hopelessly, but it was too late.

Nori turned out the sound of Frodo's voice and saw the hobbit's terrified face. He saw his brother's familiar countenance twisted into an expression of horror.

Then a terrific pain struck the side of his head, and Nori saw no more.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Bombur lifted Ori to his feet, batting the dust and debris off the younger dwarf. Ori nodded his thanks and called out to his brothers.

"I am fine, Dori, Nori, Frodo - run!"

Bombur followed Glóin and Óin, turning to make sure that Ori was following as they hurried through the halls. As Óin stopped Glóin from crashing into an outstretched rock, the back of Bombur's mind remembered a different time. A time when he was no bigger than other dwarf children – in fact a time when he was smaller than most. A time when his family lived in poverty, when his family never had enough to eat.

A time when his big brother protected him from everything...from cold, from hunger, from danger…

"Bombur, run!" Ori warned as Bombur slowed.

Bombur forced himself on faster, trying not to think of Bofur's easy grin. What if more than the mouth of the tunnel had caved in?

They may not have been as obviously close as Kíli and Fíli, but Bombur could not imagine life without his brother.

The haunting thoughts remained with him as their sprint turned to a jog and their jog turned into a walk…

Their stamina was their closest ally as they crept through the darkness. Miraculously, they were undisturbed for the whole time they walked – Bombur suspected that around three or four days had passed but with no sunlight they had no idea how much time had passed.

Slowly, the four dwarves snuck out of the mountain into the soft evening sun. It was a similar landscape to the one they had come out on sixty years before, and the hills were empty but for small tendrils of smoke coming from a sheltered area of the mountain.

The four headed as quietly as they could towards the smoke, and Bombur felt a strange mixture of relief, anger and plain exhaustion as they saw the source of the smoke.

"Gandalf."

**I hope that that was good for you, please REVIEW! Was that too short compared to normal, or was it okay?**

**So, who escapes, who doesn't, will anyone be tortured? Find out, after the break! **


	10. Chapter 10: Hero

**Hola! Thanks for my reviews last chapter, you amazing people honestly make my day! This one's a little shorter so let me know what length you like :) I hope this chapter is interesting enough and that everyone is still in character. **

**Also, I'm sorry that we only really see Fíli, Kíli and Thorin here. **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Ten # Hero #**

_"And then a hero comes along  
With the strength to carry on  
And you cast your fears aside  
And you know you can survive  
So when you feel like hope is gone  
Look inside you and be strong  
And you'll finally see the truth  
That a hero lies in you." Mariah Carey, Hero _

Kíli tried to open his eyes, but his eyelashes dragged sluggishly through the blood pooled under his face. The intense pain in his forehead was nothing compared to the fear that was fuelling his erratically beating heart.

Even when his eyes completely opened, Kíli was still partially blind to the blurred hell he was burning in.

_Fíli…Thorin…_

After the third time of trying his lips formed the shapes of their names, but his throat muscles did not even twitch, and a faint mewling, barely audible to his own ringing ears, was all the sound that he made.

As consciousness drifted back to him, Kíli remembered everything, the pain seeping back into his leaden limbs and he instantly yearned for the numbing relief of sleep. He blinked slowly, and his eyes gradually focussed through the haze.

_Fíli. Oh no, no, no, Fíli! _

His brother was lying so close that he could touch him, but with Kíli's lack of manoeuvrability he might as well have been across an ocean.

Just as he had wished for unconsciousness after waking, Kíli wished to be blind once more as his vision returned with crystal clarity.

Fíli was unmoving, his eyes closed, his lips parted, his hair strewn about his face with the exception of the braid that usually hung on the left side of his face, which was completely missing. The noose was still wrapped around his neck, the cord still wrapped around his feet.

Like Kíli, Fíli's clothes had been taken from him, leaving him in only his trousers, and the lash marks covering his back were visible. There were so many of them, so many wounds, and Kíli could remember each one as it was delivered, and he could remember Fíli's winces turn to groans and his groans turn to screams, and his screams weaken to whimpers.

_"Fff-" _his hiss broke off with a choke as pain stopped the noise but his brother twitched.

Or maybe he just imagined it.

"Fee!" he invested as much energy as he could in making the sound, but once again it had no effect, and once again the pain paralysed him.

Dying had not been this painful. Death had come within a minute of being struck by the arrows; it had been over so soon. Death would seem like a welcome escape from the pain the incapacitated Kíli was feeling in that moment.

But Kíli did not want to die again. He wanted to _live, _to come of age, to fight and to _win, _to laugh and to dance and to cry…

More than anything else in the world, Kíli wanted to _live. _

Assuming that Fíli lived.

If Fíli died…

"Fíli!" he choked, managing to get the whole word out, and Fíli's eyes flickered under his eyelids.

The clunk of a door jarred his body and there was a grunt of pain as another was thrown into the cell-like cave. The door slammed and there was a sharp gasp.

"Fíli! Kíli!"

"Th'rn..." Kíli forced the sound out of his mouth and instantly his Uncle was in his line of vision, crouching down in front of him, and a calloused hand gently cupped his face.

"Kíli…Oh, Mahal save us…Kíli…" Thorin's eyes flitted over Kíli's whole face, drinking in his appearance. "Kíli, I will be right back."

Kíli tried to nod, only managing to move his head an inch up and down. Not a single one of his limbs was responding to his brain, and that scared him. Thorin stroked his cheek and then scrambled back, stroking Fíli's braids away from his face. Kíli's nausea increased as they fell shorter than they should have, and he felt tears prick his eyes as Thorin pressed his fingers against Fíli's neck, running his other hand softly over the blonde hair.

"Fíli, can you hear me?"

Thorin may have been covered in blood, but his voice and movements were far stronger than Kíli's. There were bruises and knife wounds on his arms, chest and back, and his legs were littered with tiny burns, but he hardly seemed to notice as he gently moved Fíli's body into a safer position.

Kíli's vision was already fading again by the time Thorin got back to him, and the older dwarf knew it instantly.

"Don't you dare! Look at me Kíli, look at me…" he soothed, stroking Kíli's hair away from his face. "Everything is going to be alright."

Thorin's hands moved to Kíli's neck and for a moment the young dwarf could not breathe. Trusting Thorin irrevocably, Kíli froze, and in moments a pressure he had not noticed over the pain was released from his throat.

He drew in a deep breath and it seared his throat, but after choking for a second he managed to breathe fully for the first time since awakening. The golden rope that had been tied around his neck was lingering around Thorin's fingers, and with a twinge of horror Kíli recognised it as Fíli's missing braid.

They had been strangling him slowly with Fíli's hair.

"Fee…" he whimpered, staring at the braid.

"He's alive." Thorin nodded, moving over and pulling away the other weighted ropes that were pinning Kíli to the floor. Almost instantly energy and warmth flooded his limbs and he started to squirm as both feeling and control returned. "Stay still, Kíli."

Kíli shook his head, propping himself up on his elbows. His muscles still screamed protests at him but he propped himself up regardless, staring down at his legs. With the weighted ropes gone, the pain was all that incapacitated him.

But Kíli son of Dís was not going to be incapacitated by pain. He was a dwarf, an heir of Durin, and an heir of Thorin Oakenshield.

Drawing air deep into his lungs, Kíli pulled himself over to his brother. "Fíli…"

He could see Fíli's eyes moving under his lids, but his brother did not wake. Kíli ran his hand over Fíli's hair, feeling a tear forming in the corner of his eye. His fingers lingered over small tuft of hair where his left braid should be.

"What happened to him? After I…" Kíli trailed off, remembering the moments leading up to his loss of consciousness.

_The goblins had said that every time they screamed at them to stop they would smash the whip into Fíli's back three times more, so Kíli and Thorin had been silent for a while. _

_Kíli could practically feel every lash as it fell across Fíli's back as if the goblins were beating him as well. Screeching squeals of sickening laughter made Kíli's stomach churn - the goblins were enjoying this. He could not bear to watch them get so much glee from beating his brother when they had not even touched him, but there was nothing he could do. _

_"No whips for this one!" The Great Goblin crooned suddenly, pointing a crooked finger at Kíli. "Use nothing but your fury - show the '_great'_ Thorin Oakenshield the extent of what he has done!" _

_"No!" Fíli cried as the goblins swarmed on his brother, but Kíli refused to scream._

_Fists smashed into his back. Claws ripped away his tunic and gauged away at the newly exposed skin. Teeth clamped down on his legs and feet smashed into his arms, but all the while Kíli kept his eyes on Fíli, who the gleefully exhausted goblins had resumed hitting. _

_He could hear his uncle begging shamelessly for the goblins to stop beating them, and he winced further from the shame he knew his uncle must be feeling regardless of the humility in his voice. _

_A particularly long set of claws raked across Kíli's face and a cry wrenched from his lips._

_He was pushed to the floor to the sound of Fíli's screams and then his head smashed into the floor and the world blurred out of existence._

Thorin's face clouded with his own memories.

_"Please, just stop this, I will give you anything, I will tell you anything!" Thorin knew in his head that it was hopeless and shameful to beg but that could not stop his heart pouring words out of his mouth as Kíli's eyes fluttered closed. _

_He was losing them. He was losing them again. _

_"Kíli! KÍLI!" Fíli roared, straining weakly against the goblins that held his arms so tightly, resulting in five more lashes which turned his roar to more of a mewl. _

_"Stop your pathetic struggles, both of you!" the Great Goblin's voice was disturbingly casual as he flicked his fingers nonchalantly, but his eyes burnt with ferocious hatred. "Dispose of that filth!" _

_"No!" Thorin thundered, thrusting himself forwards. "No, Kíli!" _

_Fíli struggled ever harder than he did but both were helpless as Kíli was dragged away his hair. _

Thorin stopped himself from visualising the noose tightening around Fíli's neck and looked at Kíli.

"He will be alright. He has lost a lot of blood, and he was starved of air for too long, but…"

Kíli closed his eyes. "We are not getting out of this, are we Uncle?"

"There is always hope." Thorin insisted fiercely. "I will not sit here and watch while these _goblins _torture my-"

"But you won't." Kíli's eyes remained closed. "I do not think you will escape without… I don't think… that you will… not so…"

"I will not get off so lightly next time." Thorin murmured the end of Kíli's sentence and smiled sadly as Kíli opened his agonised eyes.

"I didn't mean to say that you got off lightly."

"I know. In some respects I did." Thorin gestured to the superficial cuts, bruises and burns that littered his body.

Kíli nodded weakly, looking back at his brother. "Why hasn't he woken up?"

"He has lost too much blood." Thorin winced as his usual blunt demeanour returned unheralded and Kíli looked up in horror. "It will not kill him, but he is weak."

Kíli nodded once more and squeezed his eyes shut.

He was not expecting Thorin's strong arms to drag him into a gentle embrace, but that was exactly what happened, with the older dwarf cradling his nephew to his chest gently so as not to worsen any of his wounds.

Kíli stiffened for a second and then every muscle in his body relaxed and he slumped into his uncle's embrace, burying his face in the familiar furs that Thorin still wore and hugging the only father he had ever known as tightly as his injuries allowed.

Just for a minute, he allowed himself to succumb to the childish feelings inside him and he snuggled down, allowing tears to flow and sobs to escape from his mouth.

Just for a minute, Thorin closed his eyes and rested his cheek on Kíli's head, pretending that his sister-son was just a child once more, and that his injuries were the insignificant results of rough-housing with Fíli.

Just for a minute, the uncle and nephew could pretend that everything was going to be alright.

Then the minute ended and Kíli pulled away. His brown eyes met Thorin's blue ones and an understanding passed between them.

They had to get out, and soon.

"I'll have a look around." Kíli pushed himself to his feet.

"Kíli-" Thorin supported him when he wobbled. "Wait a little longer, you just woke up."

"There isn't time!" Kíli insisted, stumbling to the wall inspecting the ragged rock. "Fíli… There isn't time."

Thorin nodded, standing up to join Kíli in the search for a way out, trying to shake the chills that had settled down his spine when Kíli had unwittingly looked at him the exact same way Frerin had used to. The fact that talkative Kíli was now conversing in silence like his late uncle unsettled Thorin – it was not natural. Not the way it had been for Frerin.

A small cry from Kíli had Thorin whirling around so quickly that he jarred his neck, but his sister-son was not in pain or afraid. He was hopeful.

"What have you found?"

Kíli pointed upwards at a chute leading up and away towards a faint glimmering light. It had been covered up by some wooden boards, but Thorin guessed that the goblins would not imagine their captives escaping up a vertical crack in the rocks.

"We could do it." Kíli's eyes shone with cautious hope.

"Fíli can't." Thorin grimaced, and they looked at each other.

Kíli's face set in a grin that sent shivers down Thorin's spine. "You go up first."

Thorin frowned. "What?"

"Please, trust me Thorin." Kíli crossed back over to his brother and Thorin took a deep breath, jumping up and grabbing a hold of the natural rock wall. He found that it was easy enough to move up, bracing his legs against the wall and grabbing a hold of the natural hand holes in the rock, but Kíli's plan was still unknown to him.

"Tho…rin…"

He looked down and there was Kíli, holding his brother's limp body in his arms, his whole injured body quivering with the effort and a fresh wave of blood seeping from his head.

Thorin instantly reached down and awkwardly hooked his hands under Fíli's shoulders, hoisting him up so Kíli could pull himself up as well.

It was a lot more difficult for Kíli with his injuries, but he managed it, and they slowly began to move up the chute. It was a painstaking process. First, Kíli would take Fíli's weight while Thorin climbed up half a foot or so. Then Kíli would push Fíli's body up and Thorin would pull him up onto his knees, before offering his arm to Kíli, who would struggle to pull himself up. Then Kíli would take Fíli's wait so Thorin could climb up the next foot or so.

Finally, Thorin reached the top. He stared down at Kíli and Fíli and took a deep breath. Fear and uncertainty had replaced the determination on Kíli's face, but he nodded firmly, gripping Fíli tightly.

The blonde dwarf still had not stirred.

Thorin poked his head out of the dark into the light and blinked. For a second he thought that they had escaped, but when his eyes accustomed to the light he realised that he was not alone.

They were not alone, because Thorin was staring into a pair of eyes.

A pair of big, blue eyes.

**I hope I didn't make Thorin and Kíli seem soft here, that wasn't what I was going for, I just wanted to portray them as exhausted and hopeless. Not to mention the fact that they're still changed inside from having died. My intention was to show a few moments of vulnerability in otherwise strong character. I'm a little worried that they may seem a little more wimpy to some so let me know. **

**I was also aiming for lots of feels….**

**How'd I go? I wonder who the eyes belong to ;)**

**My questions for you – story any good? Prefered chapter length? And most importantly, who do you want to see next? **

**OOH, PS! This is chapter Ten, which is always an exciting chapter. I'm loving writing this story so I will carry on with or without reviews but they DO speed things up and I am asking for as many as possible on the tenth chapter! Compliments, critiques, prompts and randomness are all accepted gratefully. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11: Stronger

**I feel I have to say a special thank you to Efnie, Thor Odinson, Phoenixfire123, Scribe of Erebor, creeyLotRfangirl55 and Childatheart28 for making my day several times :) I love you all very much :P **

**I am sorry for the wait, but this chapter took a lot of rewriting. It has had a lot cut but is still a very long chapter (though none of you seem to mind my ong chapters) **

**I really hope you enjoy it!**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Eleven # Stronger #**

_"(For so many years I tried to complete what I once started  
But, something was always here.  
Hiding away from me  
Kept me from making it happen,  
it's so unreal  
The clock is ticking, the time is passing me by, passing me by)_

Everywhere, all that is there  
(No reason to show them all what I am who I am what I think)

Answer me for all that I'm asking  
Taking back what I've been missing  
Looking back making me stronger  
My despair makes me live longer." Dead By April, Stronger

He had been hanging upside down for two days.

Frodo was not sure how much longer he could take it. Hobbits were not meant to be upside down. It went against all the laws of nature. He had heard horror stories as a child of men who had died from hanging upside down for too long when the blood had pooled in their head, and he was grateful that his hobbit body once again seemed hardy enough to endure what a man's may not – in this case the suspension. He tried to touch his toes every few hours to allow the blood to drain back into his body, but the lack of food and water was getting to him and each time he stretched it became a more impossible task.

Dori and Nori were both hanging in his line of vision, and though their faces were flushed as red as apples, they both seemed relatively unharmed.

It was the waiting that made Frodo fearful. Suffering only minor scrapes, scratches and bruises so far, Frodo knew that worse was to come and he did not want to think about it. The issue was that every time he managed to stop his brain from pondering on the unimaginable tortures that may await them he thought of Bilbo.

He remembered Bilbo falling.

He hoped with every fibre of his being that Bilbo had survived the fall… that Legolas and Dwalin were with him and they would all be alright, but he could not help but fear that Bilbo was dead.

_"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to."_

Well, Frodo had gone out of his door and stepped onto the road. He had lost his feet and most definitely been swept off somewhere. Living through Bilbo's adventure was certainly less fun than hearing about it.

Listening to the stories could only give you a touch of the fear that could seize your heart when your life was in danger. Hearing a tale of great peril was like smelling the rising bread two doors down from the bakery, whereas living in it was like thrusting your head into the oven.

"Dori?"

Frodo looked to the side as the silence was broken by Nori's hesitant tone.

Nori licked his lips. "Forgive me, brother."

"What for?" Dori managed to splutter.

"I should have listened to you more. If this is the end of… Well… I'm sorry we stopped talking…"

"No, I'm sorry." Dori said sincerely, and Frodo could see relief flushing Dori's face. "I should have explained-"

"There's no point now." Nori gave Dori a weary smile.

"No, there is a point! The last time…When the messenger came I wasn't _talking _about Kára, I was…Well It's a bit complicated but-"

"We both overreacted." Nori interrupted again.

"Agreed."

"You alright, Frodo?" Nori asked, glancing at the hobbit.

"I've been better." Frodo joked weakly, trying to lift his bound hands up to his feet again to let the blood drain out of his head. Like the dwarf brothers, Frodo's hands were tied together and the rope that bound his feet together.

"Have either of you got your weapons?" Dori asked suddenly with little hope.

"No." Frodo sighed, staring at their bags lying on the floor as if he could will them to him if he stared for long enough.

"No- yes..." Nori said suddenly. He started to squirm, rubbing his legs together, and a little knife fell from his boot. For a moment Frodo was sure that it would land in Nori's neck, but the dwarf caught the knife in his teeth with unnerving skill.

"Why didn't you do that before?" Frodo could not help but cry, but Dori cut off Nori's reply.

"Answer when we're free, Nori, just don't drop that knife!"

Nori nodded and pulled himself up with surprising dexterity. He clamped the handle between his teeth and sawed awkwardly at the ropes binding his hands for a good long while. Frodo could see Nori's grimace as blood spilled from the numerous cuts he was gaining onto his hands and into his mouth, but soon enough his hands fell to his sides and he caught the knife with a victorious "ha!"

"I thought I lost this in the struggle," he frowned, holding the knife in front of his face and inspecting it curiously. Then his face lit up. "Oh, this is Ori's knife."

"Why do you have Ori's knife?" Dori questioned and Nori flashed him a grin.

"We were playing the knife game, you know the one where-"

"Yes I know, I know!" Dori huffed, piquing Frodo's curiosity. "Never mind that, Nori, hurry up!"

"What? Oh, right!" Nori cried, pulling himself up and grabbing onto the piece of rope suspended to the ceiling so that when he sawed through the knot binding his feet with the other hand he did not fall straight onto his head.

He moved towards Dori but his brother protested. "Frodo first, and quickly!"

Nori nodded, freeing Frodo surprisingly quickly, catching the halfling in his arms before he hit the floor.

Dizziness sent Frodo to the floor anyway the moment Nori set him down, but he was grateful to feel the solid rock beneath him as Nori cut Dori down. The brothers hugged briefly and Frodo grinned.

"Right." Dori clapped his hands together, the smile lingering on his determined face. "We need to get out of this hell-hole."

"The goblins left this way." Nori reminded the others, pointing to a dark passage to the left.

The hairs on the back of Frodo's neck stood up as a draft wafted through a passage behind him. "There's another way out – this way."

Dori clamped him on the shoulder and led the way in as Nori handed each of them their bags. Frodo followed Dori as soon as he had fished an apple from his bag. The hobbit all but whimpered as he bit into the crunchy fruit, stuffing a loaf of lembas into his pocket.

Dori also took out some bread to eat while they hurried through the tunnel, but Nori did not eat, even when Frodo offered him a portion of lembas.

"I'll eat when we're safe."

Frodo would have felt guilt but his hunger was too fierce. He devoured the apple in less than a minute, and he forced himself not to do the same with the lembas, eating it as slowly as he could bear to. Thirst he had been ignoring for days flared up with a vengeance as both dwarves retrieved their water skins, but before he could reach for his own Dori passed him his.

"Here."

"I can't, I have my own-" Frodo insisted, but Dori just walked on, leaving his own skin in Frodo's hands.

Nori clamped a hand onto Frodo's shoulder as the hobbit stared at the skin in shock. "Drink it. He 'as to be looking after someone to be happy and you're the youngest here." Frodo just blinked but Nori gave the other two a fond smile and gently nudged Frodo onwards. "Drink it, Frodo."

Hesitating for only a moment, Frodo raised the water skin to his lips and drank just enough to wet his throat. It felt like nothing short of a river would quench his thirst and he did not want to drain Dori's water supply with greedy gulps so he passed it back gratefully.

"Thank you."

"No problem." The older dwarf smiled, keeping his voice low as they led through the halls.

Nori watched the young hobbit follow his brother with a small smile. Still on his guard, he could not help but revel in the absence of the load that had been on his back since he had stopped talking to Dori. In the last hour he had swallowed his pride and done what he had been yearning to do since Rivendell, and he felt so much better for it.

Of course the elation of escape was improving his mood, but Nori was glad to have reconciled with his brother. It tickled him, watching Dori with Frodo.

He knew that Frodo Baggins was still unaware of just how far the dwarves of Thorin's company would go to protect him.

Nori knew that he was not the only one who considered Bilbo as family, a feeling that had been renewed and strengthened by the blessing, and Frodo was Bilbo's cousin and heir. By default, he had as much protection as any child any member of the company could hope for.

Family was important to dwarves; that was common knowledge. There was no duty more important than protecting one's family, and Frodo was Bilbo's family.

And Bilbo Baggins was important enough to the dwarves for his family to fall under their wings of protection.

He knew his brother, and he knew that Dori needed someone to protect in order to feel that he was doing his bit.

Dori halted as their tunnel split in two. "Which path should we take?"

Nori gritted his teeth, his eyes flicking between the left and right passage.

"I say left." Frodo volunteered.

Dori wrinkled his nose. "What makes you say that?"

"When we were in Moria, Gandalf told Merry 'if in doubt, Meriadoc, follow your nose'. It got us to the right place." Frodo explained. "And that tunnel smells a little better than the right one."

"Seems like a plan." Nori grinned at the hobbit, but Dori looked less than convinced. "We have nothing better to go on."

Dori sighed and lead the way down the left tunnel. What little light illuminated their path was extinguished in seconds and they walked in solemn silence.

Nori's sharp ears picked up the faintest shuffling sound and he froze. _"Dori!" _

"What?" his brother hissed back.

A squeal cut off Nori's reply and a goblin sprang from the blackness, a burning torch in one hand and a sword in the other. It lurched towards Frodo who unsheathed his knife just in time to protect himself.

"Run!" Nori cried, shoving Frodo and Dori through the tunnel as a series of torches burst into flame on the walls. "Run!"

They did not need to be told again. Nori took up the rear, his heart sinking as he heard the goblins giving chase.

For once, fate seemed to be on their side as Dori burst out of the mountain into the clouded sunlight, but Nori was dismayed to find that they were on top of the mountain. It could take days for them to reach the other side and the trees where they were meant to meet.

"They aren't following!" Frodo cried in relief, stumbling in the snow.

"They will, as soon as the sun goes down." Dori pointed out gruffly. "Keep moving."

Frodo nodded, pulling his hood over his head as the incessant snow flurried down upon them. The snow was deep, and soon Frodo found himself up to his waist in the white powder.

He shuddered and pulled his cloak tighter around himself.

_"We cannot stay here! This will be the death of the Hobbits!" Boromir cried, pulling Merry and Pippin closer towards him. _

_Frodo looked at his young cousins. They were far too pale, and they were shivering uncontrollably, reminding Frodo of a candle in the wind. A candle that was about to be blown out. _

_The death of the hobbits…Frodo may have felt as though he was freezing to death, but that was not what he feared when the words 'death of the hobbits' reached his ears. He could _not _lose Merry or Pippin, he could not lose Sam. _

_Pippin's eyes met Frodo's. _

_"Frodo?" Gandalf pressed, begging for a different answer to the one that Pippin begged for. _

_Why did it have to be his decision? Why was the fate of the world on _his _shoulders? It was not fair. He did not know what was the best decision to make - he had no experience or expertise. _

_Gandalf did not want to go through the mines, that much was clear. But while he felt like he could just about cope with the storm, and Sam looked like he was managing, Merry and Pippin were not. _

_He could not lose his cousins. _

_He would not. _

_"We will go through the mines." _

This time the decision was not his, and Frodo relished the lack of choice. He may be freezing once more, but at least he was not in charge of the decision that could save or slay his friends.

Nori and Dori exchanged glances over Frodo's head. Already the hobbit's skin was losing colour, though the cold had brought a flush of red to the apples of his cheeks.

They did not have much time.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

"Legolas?" Thorin frowned.

The elf was lying on his stomach, staring at Thorin in shock. "It is Thorin!" he called back to Bilbo and Dwalin, before offering a hand to Thorin.

The dwarf gladly accepted it before helping Legolas and Kíli manoeuvre Fíli out of the hole.

"Oh my goodness, what happened to him?" Bilbo stammered, staring at Fíli while he offered Kíli his hand.

"Goblins." Thorin answered shortly, clapping a hand briefly on Dwalin's shoulder and nodding at the elf and Bilbo.

Kíli, lacking an immediate goal, dropped back to his knees by Fíli's side. His fingers moved with a mind of their own, searching for a pulse on the side of his brother's neck. The steady movement of blood pumping through Fíli's veins eased Kíli a little, and for a moment he dropped his forehead to his brothers, before standing up and trying to scoop up Fíli into his arms.

"Here, laddie." Dwalin said gruffly, taking Fíli up off of the floor with relative ease, gesturing subtly to Kíli's beaten arms.

"Thank you." Kíli forced out painfully; though he was grateful that Dwalin was taking his brother he felt the sickening churn of guilt in his stomach. Fíli would have carried him.

"What happened to you?" Thorin directed the question at Bilbo, who answered slowly, his eyes trained on Fíli.

"We fell into a…well I suppose it was an underground lake, and it was lucky that we did! We've been wandering around ever since searching for a way out."

The story was unusually short for the hobbit, but Bilbo Baggins did not look himself. Aside from the fact that he looked completely dishevelled and was drowning in Dwalin's coat, he fiddled with his pocket constantly, something that Thorin had not noticed him do before.

Thorin nodded. "We should keep moving, that is as much of a plan as we have."

"What happened to you?" Legolas ventured.

"We were captured." Thorin spat. "Not half an hour after we were separated. The goblins…had some fun."

Bilbo went pale. "Ah…"

"If they find out we are gone they will climb that tunnel much quicker than we did, we have to move!" Kíli insisted suddenly. "Which way do we go?"

"We were trying for west." Bilbo explained. "Which we guessed to be…roughly that-a-way."

Thorin nodded and led on silently. Kíli followed him, then Dwalin, Legolas and lastly Bilbo. They walked in silence, save Kíli's rare enquiry to see if Fíli had stirred. They were silenced by pain and fear, but Thorin could sense something else in the air.

He knew that something was wrong when they crossed a bridge and Dwalin passed Fíli to Legolas without complaint in order to regain his footing. Dwalin, who had refused to let the elves of Rivendell carry his dirty boots, was handing off Thorin's heir to Legolas of Mirkwood.

This was very strange.

In fact the two had been acting strangely since they had been reunited. They were acting civilly to each other, and Bilbo was acting almost smugly, now that Thorin came to think about it.

They walked deeper into the dark tunnels for what Thorin guessed was almost a day, before he halted. "We should rest here."

Legolas, Dwalin and Bilbo nodded as Thorin's eyes rested on Kíli, who was leaning against the wall and trying not to pant. The youngest dwarf's own eyes were trained on Fíli.

Dwalin gently lay the blonde dwarf on the floor, and he stirred slightly. In a flash, Kíli was kneeling on the floor at his brother's side.

"Fíli? Can you hear me? Fíli?"

Fíli's eyes flickered under his eyelashes and he turned his head, but he did not wake.

Kíli hung his head.

Dwalin cleared his throat. "Legolas, you're an elf. Can you do anything for the lad or no?"

Legolas nodded softly at Dwalin. "I will see what I can do."

The elf kneeled on the opposite side to Kíli, looking over Fíli from head to toe. A look of concentration passed over his face and he started to mutter. Thorin watched Bilbo walk slowly to Kíli and place a hand on his shoulder.

Kíli's bloodied hand flew up and clutched Bilbo's, and he smiled gratefully at the hobbit.

Fíli gave a soft moan and stretched slightly, and his eyes flickered further. He gave a little cough. "K…"

"Fíli?" Kíli murmured, his hand leaving Bilbo's to clutch Fíli's. "Fíli?"

"I have done all I can." Legolas announced quietly, sitting back.

"Fee?" Kíli's voice wavered and Fíli's eyes opened a slit.

"K…" Fíli blinked his half opened eyes, but they did not focus as the little cough left his mouth again.

Thorin knelt next to Legolas and tenderly took Fíli's other hand. "Fíli? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me…"

Fíli coughed and his eyes blinked closed, before opening almost completely. His eyes flitted around, seeing nothing but searching desperately for something.

"We are here, Fíli." Thorin said, his voice soothing, as Kíli braved a grin towards Legolas.

The blue eyes focused on Thorin and his cough returned violently. _"K-K-K…" _

"Breathe, laddie." Dwalin grinned at him fondly.

Fíli took a deep breath. "K-Kíli…"

Kíli's face split into a wide grin and he gave a little laugh. "I'm here."

"You…okay?"

"Never better. You look awful."

Fíli gave a weak grin as his eyes finally set on Kíli. "Still more handsome than you…"

Kíli's laugh rang around the little cavern and the others smiled. "If you say so, Fíli."

"Others?" Fíli asked, and Kíli's grin faded. He looked up at Dwalin.

"We haven't seen anyone, but Bilbo and I are here. With the…Legolas."

"The Legolas?" Fíli frowned, trying to sit up.

Thorin and Kíli rushed to help him, propping him up as strength started to return to his limbs.

Dwalin fidgeted slightly and Bilbo cleared his throat. Everyone looked at the pair but neither offered an explanation.

Fíli flexed his muscles. "What happened?"

"Legolas did…something." Kíli stared at the elf who gave a small smile.

"My healing powers may not be outstanding, but I feel that they are sufficient. You needed little more than energy and blood, the former I was able to give you."

Fíli blinked and Kíli scoffed. "May not be outstanding?"

"By my own people's standards." Legolas' mouth twitched into a grin, but just as quickly it fell away from his lips. "Someone is coming, we must go!"

Bilbo and Dwalin helped Fíli and Kíli to their unsteady feet, and as Thorin rose he could see them both grimace. "Dwalin, lead the way."

He pushed Fíli, Kíli and Bilbo after Dwalin, taking up the rear himself as they continued into the dark.

Fíli could feel the renewed energy that buzzed in his veins. Whatever the elf had done, he was grateful for it. Agony rippled across his mangled back with every movement, but the agony was bearable.

He was happy to find that he could keep up with the others, following a stumbling Kíli through the passages.

They rested briefly several times over what he could only guess were days, and eventually the pain began to fade a little. As the agony numbed into a throbbing ache, Fíli started to notice small details more. He noticed Kíli trying to sneak his own food into Fíli's hands. He noticed how his own water skin seemed to be losing little water whereas Kíli was down to the last dregs of his own.

Fíli felt ashamed that he had not noticed before, and on what he supposed to be the third day since he had woken, he caught Kíli in the act.

"No, Kíli. Eat it." He pushed the bread back into Kíli's hand firmly, before passing his brother the water. "And drink some of that. I have plenty."

Recognising that he was caught, Kíli blushed. "Fíli-"

"I understand," Fíli smiled, pushing Kíli's arm lightly. "Drink it, little brother. I am fine."

Kíli gave a weak attempt at a smile and ate the bread that Fíli had given back to him, though he refused to drink from Fíli's water skin.

"If you don't I'll force it down your throat…" Fíli teased, but Kíli did not bite. "Kíli, drink it."

With a heavy sigh, Kíli took a mouthful of water and then thrust the skin back into Fíli's hands with a glower that Fíli had not seen for years.

He sighed himself, following Kíli once again as they started moving.

"Daylight!" Legolas' soft cry was saturated with relief, and Dwalin started to run forward.

"Careful!" Thorin warned from behind, and they slowly ventured out into the sun. The mountain was empty, the trees were nearby and the sun was beginning to rise over the hill.

Bilbo smiled. "We're out. Now all we have to do is find the others. I am sure that they are all waiting for us in the woods."

Bilbo's forced cheerfulness was so strong that Thorin felt himself hoping that the hobbit was right. He led the way down to a small rocky outlet among the trees. "This will provide enough cover for us to rest a while."

Bilbo, Fíli and Kíli sat down gratefully, but Thorin remained on his feet. "I am going to scout the area."

"I'll do that." Dwalin insisted, eyeing the leg that Thorin had begun to limp on. "Legolas?"

The elf nodded. "We will see if we can find some water or food."

As the two walked away, Thorin, Fíli and Kíli gaped.

"What happened with those two?" Kíli asked finally.

Bilbo gave a sheepish little grin. "Well…"

_"No." Dwalin growled stubbornly, shaking his head. _

_"Dwalin, please, just take his hand it's not difficult." Bilbo sighed, already on the other side of the large gap that Dwalin was refusing Legolas' help to cross. _

_Legolas stiffened, his jaw tightening with anger. "Hurry-"_

_"Don't you rush me, elf!" Dwalin snarled, and that was it. _

_"If you don't rush you will fall to your death, I won't wait for you!" Legolas returned angrily. _

_Dwalin growled and tried to leap across himself, only to fall just short and be pulled up by Legolas who automatically grabbed his beard. Dwalin roared, shoving Legolas when he reached safety and rubbed his chin. _

_"I just saved your life!" Legolas growled and Bilbo bristled. _

_For the past three days the pair had been acting like children. They had scorned each other and glared at each other. They had refused to co-operate wherever possible, and Bilbo thought he had even seen a few shoves thrown in there. _

_Bilbo Baggins had had enough. _

_ "Stop it _right_ now, both of you!" _

_Dwalin and Legolas both blinked, their mouth falling open in a look of dumb shock at the very small and very angry hobbit. _

_Years of scolding mischievous hobbit children, mainly Frodo, Merry and Pippin, had hardened Bilbo in a way that Legolas and Dwalin knew nothing of, and in that instant they both felt startlingly afraid. _

_As he scolded them, Bilbo's hands made increasingly animated gestures. "I have had it up to _here_ with you two, constantly bickering and acting like six year olds! If you can't speak nicely to each other then _deal_ with it like six year olds and say nothing to each other at all! Otherwise, get over yourselves and act like sophisticated adults!" _

_The elf and dwarf glanced at each other, stunned, and Bilbo exhaled sharply. _

_"Right, Dwalin, walk ahead. Legolas, take up the rear. Any more of your bickering and I will _really_ lose my temper." _

Kíli and Fíli roared with laughter, and even Thorin smiled at Bilbo's tale.

"Never let me see you _really _lose your temper, Bilbo!" Kíli choked, absently nursing his shoulder. Like Thorin, he favoured one leg over the other, and while time was healing Fíli's wounds, Kíli's limp grew worse as the days progressed.

Bilbo laughed. "It doesn't happen very often, I can tell you that."

It was really quite a shame.

If they had been but fifty yards to their right, they would have been in hearing range of Bofur, Gimli, Balin and Bifur. If they were fifty yards to their right, they might have heard the cries for help, and they would have come.

If they were fifty yards to their right, they might have stopped what happened.

If they were fifty yards to the right, maybe, just maybe, they could have saved a life.

**I debated resurrecting Gollum for this chapter, but it was always a one sided debate and I went with my gut and left him dead. The reason for this is that I can't imagine Gollum without the ring, and think that the good part of Smeagol deserves to rest in peace. **

**Please leave a review, they do make my day!** **I don't know whether I not I like this chapter, to be honest, so I hope that you do. **

**Thanks for reading. **


	12. Chapter 12: Losing You

**Here I am! Thank you to all you lovely reviewers, I will try and speed up updates for you now I am on holidays from school :) **

**Honestly reviewers, you have made my day so many times and I love to hear from you! Thank you soooo much, you're the best!**

**I do have a lot of summer work though so this is not priority number one. Anyhows, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Chapter Twelve # Losing You #**

_"What I have in me,  
In my mind is you  
(I would die if we were through)  
What I'm feeling now,  
What I'm heading into!  
(I am lost in pain without you)  
(so cold, so alone)_

All I have is you,  
It is all that I'm breathing for  
All I need is you,  
(Now I can't make it through)

All the nights I've prayed,  
Must this all be untrue?  
(I am not prepared to be strong)  
I just can't believe I am losing you  
(Unprepared to carry on)  
(I can't see you walk away)  
(so cold, so alone)" Dead By April, Losing You

The blood had not yet stopped seeping from the body.

Bofur's cries for help silenced as the happy-go-lucky dwarf fell to his knees amidst the battling goblins and pressed his palms to Bifur's bloodied neck, praying that maybe if he held tight enough he could force the life back into his cousin.

"Bifur!" he choked, his voice drowned out by the battle surrounding him. "No, Bifur, no!"

Dimly he heard Gimli roar and the crash of tumbling rocks. The silence that fell was significant – death had taken its prize and the battle had been won.

"Bofur?" Balin asked shakily.

"He's not dead!" Bofur snapped insistently, refusing to look into Bifur's empty eyes. "He's not dead, he's alive and he's going to live and-"

"Bofur don't do that to yourself." Balin grimaced, wiping blood and tears from his cheeks.

"Bifur!" Bofur cried once more as blood stopped seeping through his fingers.

Blood does not flow long from corpses.

Bifur was dead.

"He's gone." Gimli swallowed, his own eyes clouded over with grief.

"No…" Bofur's whisper broke into a sob. "No, he's not! He survived before, he can do it again!"

Balin's hands rested on Bofur's shoulders but he shrugged them off, ripping his hat from his head and cushioning Bifur's with the toughened fabric.

"We need to move." Gimli whispered, and Bofur nodded, standing up with Bifur in his arms.

Balin and Gimli exchanged pained glances as he stumbled but neither said anything.

Bofur stared down at the dwarf in his arms, tears falling down from his cheeks and onto Bifur's. Balin led the way towards a large, distinctive rock, and a tiny smokeless fire that Bofur had not even seen, but he could hear the chatter of voices.

It was Ori, Óin, Glóin and Gandalf. And Bombur.

Bofur staggered slightly as Gimli called ahead to make their presence known. Joyful dwarves ran out from behind the rock to greet them, but each stopped in their tracks at the sight of Bofur.

He ignored them all, laying Bifur down before the fire near Gandalf.

"Do something!" he implored the wizard, whose face displayed a spasm of pain.

"My dear Bofur, there is nothing I can do." He said gently.

"That's ridiculous, you're a wizard, you can do something-"

"No one can reverse death, Bofur." Even through Bofur's angry shouting Gandalf's voice remained gentle.

"No, no, he's not dead!"

A crushing hug came from Bombur, but however hard Bofur struggled his brother would not let him go.

Gandalf knelt by the body and closed Bifur's eyes, pressing his fingers to the bloodied neck of the dwarf to humour Bofur.

"He is gone, Bofur."

Bofur fell limp in Bombur's grip, staring at Bifur without seeing him. He expected him to jump up at any moment, to laugh wickedly or curse in Khuzdul as if it were all a stupid joke.

"What happened?" Gandalf asked Balin.

"We were stuck between orcs and goblins. The orcs were gone when the sun rose and we decided to make a move, but the goblins chose that moment to ambush us. Gimli managed to cave in the entrance but it was too late…"

Bofur staggered as Bombur released him and he fell to Bifur's side once more.

"Come on, Bifur…" he whispered.

A faint cry reached their ears and Ori went to investigate, returning minutes later with Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo, Legolas and Dwalin.

Not even two hours after that the company was made whole by the arrival of Dori, Nori and Frodo, but their reunions held little joy.

Bofur did not talk. He just sat next to the cooling corpse, trying to keep Bifur's hand warm. He was mildly surprised when he was joined by Legolas, but he was too numb to feel any stronger emotion.

"I am sorry that there is nothing I can do." He murmured and Bofur nodded dumbly. "What happened?"

_Bofur smashed his mattock into yet another goblin, whirling and hacking faster than he had ever hacked before in his life. _

_He was outnumbered, separated from the others but over a dozen goblins, so when his mattock was wrenched from his hands Bofur knew that death was upon him. The sword thrust forward and he dodged as far as he could, but still it scraped his side, wrenching a cry of pain from between his gritted teeth. _

_Suddenly the orcs were thrown away as a ferocious Bifur fought his way to his cousin, creating a ring around Bofur into which no goblin dared venture. Bofur straightened with a trademark grin as Bifur passed him a spare sword, and he re-joined his cousin's hacking, all the while roaring out Khuzdul pleas for backup. _

_Bifur saw it coming, the knife that swung in a graceless arc towards Bofur's neck. He had less than a second to react. _

_He turned, and grabbed Bofur's arms as the metal sliced into his own throat, falling instantly to the floor. _

"It was my fault." Bofur mourned. "The knife was aimed at my neck, not his… It should have been me!"

Legolas was silent for a moment. "He saved your life."

Bofur squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, and the elf's own eyes filled with grief.

He had begun to become fond of the strangest member of the company. Bifur had always made a point of sharing any non-meat foodstuffs he may have had with the elf, and he had accepted him far more readily than most of the others.

"It's not fair." Bofur opened his eyes and they blazed with anger as he admitted to elf the thoughts he would never admit to the others. "The others, they got a chance to live again. We lost a few years…I'd gain 'em all in a second to give him a chance to live again."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Bofur's eyes snapped open and he flew up from the wall, breathing heavily. Instantly he reached for Bifur, still lying asleep beside him.

Still breathing heavily beside him.

"What's wrong, laddie?" Balin frowned, standing up from his position of watch at the door.

Still breathing heavily, Bofur stared at Bifur. "It was just a dream."

He repeated the incredible words in his head.

_It was just a dream. _

"Oh, thank you Mahal, it was just a dream." He breathed, leaning against the wall.

Balin gave the younger dwarf a reassuring smile, knowing better than to ask what the dream was about.

"The orcs are all gone." he murmured, and Bofur's stomach turned.

He was less relieved by those words than he should have been, his dream still unnerving him. It had begun with the dawn and a distinct lack of orcs outside.

"All of them?"

"Looks like it. We should make a move before they return; we can't avoid the goblins forever." Balin craned his neck to look out of their little tunnel to the darkened mountain stretching down below.

Bofur nodded. "Let's go now."

"Before the sun rises?"

"Darkness will give us cover," Bofur reasoned, grateful for a reason to wake Bifur and an excuse to leave before the sun came up.

Even though he knew that the dream was a figment of his imagination, he wanted to avoid any similarities with his dream.

He wanted to avoid even similarities as small as leaving in daylight.

"That makes sense, I suppose." Balin nodded, prodding Gimli gently to wake him up. "If we keep quiet, the goblins might not know to follow us."

Bofur readily leaned over to Bifur and shook his arm. "Wake-up, Bifur."

"We're moving?" Bifur signed.

Bofur nodded, his heart quickening uncomfortably with relief when Bifur moved.

"What is wrong?" Bifur asked his cousin is Khuzdul, but Bofur just clamped a hand on Bifur's arm and shook his head.

Faintly, goblins could be heard, and the four dwarves slipped out of the mountain with full knowledge that if they made any noise they would be tracked down and caught or killed. Making their movements as silent as possible they crept steadily toward the trees.

Suddenly a terrorized scream sounded in the darkness and goblins screeches responded.

"Who was that?" Bofur cried.

"It wasn't one of us..." Gimli's statement was a mixture of relief and worry. "So who was it?"

"I don't recognise the voice..." Balin worried. "We must move..."

In an instant goblins were upon them and the battle from Bofur's dream began, only this time they were fighting it in the dark.

Bofur smashed his mattock into yet another goblin, whirling and hacking faster than he had ever hacked before in his life.

He was outnumbered, separated from the others but over a dozen goblins, so when his mattock was wrenched from his hands Bofur knew that death was upon him. The sword thrust forward and he dodged as far as he could, but still it scraped his side, wrenching a cry of pain from between his gritted teeth.

Suddenly the orcs were thrown away as a ferocious Bifur fought his way to his cousin, creating a ring around Bofur into which no goblin dared venture as Bofur regained his footing. Bofur straightened with a trademark grin as Bifur passed him a spare sword, and he re-joined his cousin's hacking, all the while roaring out Khuzdul pleas for backup.

"No…" Bofur mumbled as time slowed down and Bifur's eyes spied the knife arching its way toward Bofur's neck. "Bifur, _no!" _

He lurched forward, shoving Bifur out of the knife's path as Bifur tried to block him.

The blade reached its intended target in the side of Bofur's neck, though it hit the side of his neck and his ear instead of piercing his jugular. Even so the pain was terrifyingly intense and Bofur was dropped to his knees.

Bifur's eyes widened in horror but once again he swung his axe around and created a protective ring around his fallen kin.

Just like in the nightmare, the fight melted away and Bofur was left on the floor covered in blood, but this time it was his own.

He was not sure when the skirmish ended, but the rocks smashed down to cover the entrance to the cave with a deadly finality and Bofur groaned, clutching his ear tightly.

Bifur was there in a flash, slapping Bofur's hand away and inspecting the damaged area himself, all the while muttering away curses in Khuzdul to every orc who had ever so much as looked at his family.

"Ow!" Bofur complained, trying to clamp his hand back to his neck like a child.

"Stop it! You lost half of your ear." Bifur cursed in the ancient language, his fingers probing at the top of Bofur's bloodied ear.

"What?" The younger dwarf cried, twisting to look at Bifur but he was reprimanded by a slap to the back of the head and a sharp verbal rebuke as the toymaker's surprisingly delicate hands ripped a bundle of cloth from inside his pack and pressed it to Bofur's ear.

"Ah-_ow_!" He protested, but Bifur simply dragged him to his feet, all the while tending the bleeding wounds on Bofur's neck and ear.

Gimli scouted around for the source of the screaming that had given away their position as Balin and Bifur bandaged Bofur up.

"I, urgh, think you should see this..." Gimli called, and the others walked over to where he stood on the side of the mountain.

He had found the source of the scream.

Bofur took his hat off at the sight of the ravaged pair of dwarves, one lying face up with empty eyes and the other curled up in the foetal position, his face mainly hidden by his blonde hair, his stomach visibly ripped to shreds.

"I knew 'em. What the hell were they doing here?" Bofur whispered.

Balin squinted sadly at the young dwarves. "I have no idea, I can't say that I know them. Who are they…_were_ they?"

Bofur pointed at the blonde. "I recognise his clothing. His name was Alfr, son of Gunnar."

Balin looked up at Bofur with shock. "Lóni's younger brother?"

Bofur nodded. "And Nori's brother in law."

Balin closed his eyes, remembering. "Of course, Lóni was Kara's brother... Who is the other one?"

"That's Vidar, I don't know his father's name." Bofur sighed heavily. "They were both young, Vidar has a family. I liked 'em both."

"What are they doing here?" Gimli frowned.

"I have no idea…" Bofur shook his head.

"By Mahal, he's twitching!" Gimli cried, and the four raced over to the side of the blonde Alfr.

Nori's brother-in-law was indeed taking shaky breaths, his eyes slightly open as his fingers fluttered over his mangled belly.

"Alfr, can you hear us?" Gimli asked, having met the young dwarf many times in Erebor.

He flinched but then his eyes opened. "M…s…age…"

"What?" Bofur murmured, "It's okay, laddie, you're safe now."

"Po…tant…" Alfr forced out. He moaned softly. "H've t' g've m's'ge..."

"What's he saying?" Balin murmured, and Bifur picked the young dwarf up off of the floor, gesturing with his head for Gimli to pick up the corpse of the dead dwarf, Vidar.

They moved down the mountain into the cover of trees, and a very familiar rock froze Bofur in his tracks. "I think we should go this way..."

Unquestionably, Bifur followed Bofur, and low voices could be heard from the other side. Sure enough, Gandalf, Bombur, Óin, Glóin and Ori were all sitting around a small, smokeless fire.

They leapt to their feet when the others arrived, the make-shift campsite bustling with relief and horror.

"Óin, what can you do for 'im?" Bofur cried, gesturing to the rapidly fading Alfr.

The healer aided Bofur in lowering Alfr to the floor and then turned to Gandalf hopelessly.

The wizard muttered some words but then he looked Bofur right in the eye. "He is badly wounded, Bofur, I doubt that I can do little more than buy him some time."

Bofur sighed heavily. Alfr was a good dwarf, and he was young – his beard was scarcely bigger than Kíli's. He did not deserve to die a cold death in the Misty Mountains, savaged by vampires.

"Just do _whatever_ you can, Gandalf, please. He's a good lad."

Gandalf nodded, bustling over the young dwarf, though his face held no hope.

They all shrank down as goblin screeches once again met their ears, but they quickly faded into the night.

Gandalf held a hand up cautiously as the snapping of twigs alerted them to the presence of another few people.

They watched the trees like eagles, and a few shadowy figures passed by them.

Bofur felt a little strange when he saw the figures, and Ori let out a sigh of relief, calling out in a low tone. "Nori, Dori!"

The figures froze and turned toward them, before rushing towards the fire.

"Ori!" The brothers cried out in relief, and Frodo gave a little weak grin from between them. His hair looked frozen and he looked as if the blood had completely drained out of his body.

Nori took most of Frodo's weight as he led the pale hobbit to the small fire.

"What happened?" Gandalf asked Nori, who gave a weak grin.

"We found our way out in the top of the mountain. Frodo got...a...bit...cold..." his tone trailed off into quiet disbelief as he spied Bofur crouching and taking calmly to the fading Alfr.

"Oh...Mahal…" Dori winced as Nori ran to the younger dwarf's side.

"Hullo, Alfr." Nori painted a smile across his face and Ori's mouth popped open as he put together the dots. The gentle, caring side of Nori that was starting to show a little more than usual had taken over his big brother completely.

"N-Nori..." The eighty year old struggled to speak, but the relief in his eyes was visible for all who could see the big brown orbs. "M's'ge!"

"Message?" Nori frowned lightly, gently stroking the blonde hair. "Is that what you're doing here?"

Alfr nodded painfully, clutching at his stomach. "Po...tan..."

Nori nodded. "I understand. Relax, Alfr, it's alright, you're safe here."

"V'd'r?"

Nori looked over at the dead dwarf Gimli had laid down. "Vidar's gone, Alfr."

Alfr let out a pained sob of grief for his friend. "M'tn. Chi'n, gob'n, tr'ble…"

"What?" Nori's frown deepened. "Jus' slow down, Alfr, it will be alright. I can't understand you, just breathe-"

"Po…tan!" Alfr hissed, gripping Nori's wrist. "Chi'n m'ss'n!"

Growing visibly more and more distressed, Nori swallowed, holding onto his Alfr's hand. "Okay, Alfr. I'm here…"

"Nor'!" Alfr forced out, trying to get his message to Nori, before his eyes suddenly lost the intense determination that had occupied them for the last few seconds and fear took its place. "No..ee…don' wan'…ie…"

"I know, you will be alright, Alfr…" Nori soothed his brother in law with a twitching smile.

"T'll Ka…"

He never finished the sentence.

Nori closed his eyes and tipped his head back as the life left his brother in law. Kára's only surviving family.

"Nori, I'm sorry…" Bofur and Dori mumbled at the same time.

"He said something about a message." Nori muttered, closing Alfr's eyes. "We have to know what he meant."

Gandalf nodded.

"We should bury them…" Glóin whispered gruffly.

"Properly." Nori growled.

"We don't have time…" Balin trailed off at the look on the spiky haired dwarf's face.

"We still have to wait for the others. We. Have. Time."

The others bowed their heads, but Ori silently began to straighten out Vidar's braids, dampening a relatively clean cloth with water from his water-skin.

As the other dwarves began to help Ori clean the older dwarf, Nori did his duty as Alfr's closest of kin, washing away the blood and gore and straightening out his clothes while Glóin and Bombur began to dig the graves.

Straightening out young Alfr's shirt, Nori was surprised when a scroll fell out of his heavy coat. It was saturated with blood.

"A message. They were taking a message to Ered Luin. That's what he was trying to tell me." He muttered dumbly. "I think he was saying that it was important…"

Ori put a hand on Nori's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Nori nodded. "Me too."

Bofur stared numbly at the scene before him. It was so like his dream, but so different. Bifur was not lying dead on the floor. Alfr and Vidar were.

Bofur had not lost a brother. Nori had.

"You saw something."

He jolted, looking up at Gandalf. "What?"

"Last night, you saw something, didn't you Bofur?" Gandalf's face was kind and his voice soft.

"I had a weird dream, is all." Bofur gave a weak and unconvincing smile.

"What happened in this…weird dream?"

Bofur took a long drag rom his pipe. "I saw Bifur. He was…he died. We couldn't save him an'…it was my fault. But everything else…apart from Bifur…we found you here. Nori, Dori and Frodo came down from the trees, it happened in that exact order. It's creepy."

"You foresaw the events of this day." Gandalf murmured comfortingly. "It's not unusual, Bofur."

"For me it bloody well is!" the dwarf choked on the pipe weed. "And I don't like it."

Gandalf chuckled. "Few do. The elves relish it."

"I'm not a bloody elf." Bofur gave a little laugh. Then he frowned. "I don't want it. I don't want to see that in my mind when I sleep."

Gandalf gave Bofur a weary smile. "I understand. What happens next? According to your vision."

Bofur scoffed. "Next thing you know Thorin and the boys will be back with Dwalin and Legolas and Bilbo-"

Ori cried out. "Gandalf! Thorin's coming!"

Bofur groaned and rubbed his temples as Gandalf let out a small, saddened but genuine laugh.

"What happened?" Thorin asked as he led an exhausted Fíli and Kíli into the camp. "Is everyone alright?"

"In a way." Dori glanced at Nori as Bilbo pulled Frodo into a tight hug.

"We just buried two of our kin." Nori announced gravely.

Thorin's face darkened. "Tell me everything."

**Okay, I kind of tried. But I couldn't kill Bifur. I love him too much and decided that it wouldn't work for the whole story. So I interwove some other stuff that I was gonna do later in the story into this chapter and I hope that it worked. **

**EG Alfr and Vidar came in here a little sooner than I thought, did it work? **

**Also, they're all back together, was that anti-climatic? **

**Thank you so much for reading, please review! :)**


	13. Chapter 13: The Howling

**'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! Quick update before I leave for Australia, thanks for the kind reviews! Updates should be relatively steady while I'm on holiday :)**

**NOTE THAT YOU MAY SKIP: The other day I was at my cousin's house (she's eight)and she asked about LOTR and The Hobbit. I was able to use the term "one does not simply walk into Mordor" in casually conversation which was EPIC and my cousin's favourite dwarf to ask about was Bifur which was also very cute. Now she's told me that she wants to read The Hobbit!**

**NOTE THAT YOU PROBS SHOULD READ: The song this chapter is named after is by Within Temptation and fits really well to the end especially so give it a try (the band is amazing!) It is also FORESHADOWING – look at me all technical, this English A level might be paying off :)**

**Anyways, Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Thirteen # The Howling # **

_"We've been seeing what you want,  
You've got us cornered right now  
Falling asleep from our vanity  
May cost us our lives_

I hear them getting closer  
Their howls are sending chills down my spine  
Time is running out now,  
They're coming down the hills from behind

When we start killing  
It's all coming down right now  
From the night that we've created  
I wanna be awakened somehow  
(I wanna be awakened right now)

When we start killing  
It all will be falling down  
From the hell that we're in  
All we are is fading away  
When we start killing." Within Temptation, The Howling.

The decision not to linger on the side of the mountain had been unanimous. There was no doubt amongst the company that they were still being tracked, and none had a desire to find themselves clinging to trees like squirrels again.

It was midday before they set out, walking down the mountain in unusual silence, each wrapped up in his own thoughts.

No warg howls chased them down the hill, but for Bombur that made the sickening churn of fear even worse. The uncertainty of what was coming next mixed with the knowledge of what could, or maybe _should _come next made Bombur feel positively nauseous.

He looked around at the company and he did not like what he saw. Apparently, both Bilbo and Frodo had come dangerously close to freezing to death, Bilbo in the underground lake and Frodo in the snowy mountain top.

Their company burglar looked deep in thought, not an unusual pose for the hobbit, but his eyes often moved to Nori with grief and sympathy pouring from their brown orbs. He did not say anything, but Bombur could tell that he wanted to.

Frodo stuck a lot closer to Bilbo than he usually did, and his face was still paler than usual. Having grown up with the story of his cousin's journey, he was looking constantly behind him, his fear as clear to Bombur as the nose on his face.

Nori's face was a solid mask broken only by his grief filled eyes. To his utter dismay, the scroll he had found was unreadable, blood staining the entire document. Only a few disjointed words were even discernible. Occasionally a tear would fight its way free and slide down his cheek, but his stealthy hands stole the droplets from their path before most noticed.

While Nori grieved, Dori sent constant looks of silent support at his younger brother. Whatever had happened between them in the mountain was known only to the two of them and to Frodo, and none were in the mood for storytelling, so Bombur did not know what had seemingly reconciled the brothers. He was just glad that they _were _reconciled; on the few occasions when Dori actually did reach out and touch Nori's arm, the spiky haired dwarf gave his older brother a small smile.

Their younger brother was graver than Bombur had ever seen him. Seeing his middle brother in so much grief had hit Ori hard, and the young dwarf seemed both lost and grounded. He did not seem to know his place, looking between his surroundings and his brothers, but he continued to walk with a meaningful purpose he had not possessed during the quest for Erebor the first time around, his old eyes contrasting with his young face.

Kíli was also walking a lot slower than before, but Bombur feared that the youngest dwarf of the company was a lot more exhausted and injured than he was letting on. Bombur noticed the would-be-prince's stumbles and the way his hand tightened around Fíli's arm for support whenever he was about to fall. His eyes were drooping a little but every time Thorin's eyes glanced toward him he would put on a brave face.

Much like Kíli, Fíli looked awful. The two brothers wore tunics donated by the rest of the company – their packs had been ransacked by the goblins leaving them with next to nothing, but their bruised and battered faces showed signs of a jaded fatigue that was so out of place on their innocent faces. Bombur was afraid that all of their work in restoring the two boys' jovial personalities would fade away in light of the horror they had experienced in the goblin caves.

He guessed that this was a sentiment he shared with Thorin, who glanced at his nephews almost more than he did the floor at his own path. As he limped onward his wary eyes took note of everything that Bombur's did, as well as scouting the surrounding forest for the first hint of danger, his hands constantly on orcrist's hilt. Bombur knew that the three had found their weapons by chance on their way out of goblin town, and he was happy that they did – out of all the company, Bombur could think of none more fond of their weapons than the heirs of Durin, they had come back from the dead with them, for crying out loud.

Dwalin was in his usual place behind Thorin, his normal gait and mannerisms seemingly unaffected by the experience. Bombur knew that this was not the case. Dwalin was different, but Bombur could not quite put his finger on the change until he took note of Legolas.

The elf was on high alert but back in his comfort zone it seemed, walking behind Frodo and in front of Gimli, but he seemed to have changed in a similar manner to Dwalin, leading Bombur to believe that the events that had changed the warrior dwarf had also changed Thranduil's son. When they exchanged a meaningful glance, Bombur decided that he _had _to hear the story as soon as they were somewhere safe.

Balin walked behind Dwalin, keeping an eye on his younger brother as if he was a child prone to getting lost, and Bombur recognised that the white bearded dwarf had been genuinely terrified of losing his brother. Bombur guessed that Balin had believed that Dwalin had fallen to his doom in the caves and had been grieving only to have the heaviness of grief lifted from his shoulders by finding out that his brother lived.

Óin also appeared to be grieving - he had a familiar grey look about his face, a look Bombur had seen on each of those few occasions when Óin had been faced with a patient he could not save. The guilt he felt for Alfr and Vidar's death should not belong to him, but he had claimed it anyway, Bombur could tell by the look on the old dwarf's face, and the way that the old healer kept his ear trumpet by his side, not bothering to raise it to his ear in the rare moments when someone would speak.

Glóin and Gimli were showing almost identical reactions to the trauma and loss their friends were suffering – they walked with slightly bowed heads and hands holding their axes, and their faces were void of emotion as they immersed themselves into whatever thoughts flooded their heads. Having known Gimli since he was but a child, Bombur could easily recognised when he and his father were silently escaping to their own worlds even while they kept watch on their surroundings.

Contrastingly, Bifur was anything _but _in his own world. The concerned glances he gave each member of the company screamed to Bombur of his cousin's discomfort and told him that Bifur was engaging in the exact same activity that he was – studying each member of the company to summarise injuries, traumas and moods. Bifur's glances, much like Bombur's, slid most often to the pensive face of Bofur.

Bofur. Bombur could not read his brother's mood and that worried him. Bofur stared into the distance with his pipe between his lips, but he was not smoking. He was deep in thought, that much was clear, but not even his expressive eyes would yield a single clue towards the subject of his musings.

Bombur did not even try to wonder what the wizard was thinking. He looked much the same as he usually did, if anything he was a little more grave and a little more gruff.

Then Fíli asked a very strange question, one that Bombur did not expect to pass from the hardy dwarf's mouth.

"Thorin, when can we rest?"

Thorin turned to look at Fíli with concern, but the blonde's head was turned towards Kíli who gave a little snarl.

"I'm fine!"

"Soon." Thorin promised, interrupting Fíli's retort. "If we press on we will reach the base of the mountain by nightfall. If my memory serves me correctly there is a rocky inlet where we may take shelter for the night. We will rest soon, Fíli."

Fíli nodded, shooting Kíli a look of concern that made another uncharacteristic grimace contort Kíli's face.

If Bombur was as good a reader of body language as he thought he was, Kíli was feeling weaker by the minute, but as an heir of Durin he was far too stubborn to admit it. Fíli was noticing and so was Thorin, but the latter had the entire company to protect and guide to safety, and the former could do little until Kíli admitted his exhaustion.

So Bombur did the only thing he thought was right to do.

Kíli looked at him in surprise as he pressed an apple into the younger dwarf's hands without so much as a word.

"Thank you." The simple words were filled with so much gratitude that Bombur smiled and gave him another, though he was not at all surprised when Kíli passed it straight to Fíli.

Feeling suddenly useful, Bombur started to distribute apples to each member of the company. When he passed the last, and shiniest, apple to Bofur, his brother stared at him in disbelief.

"Where the hell have you been keeping them all Bombur? And how the hell are they all perfect, not bruised or anything?"

The rotund dwarf just smiled. It was his business what he filled up his own part of his pack with, and if he wanted to carry enough food to last a normal person a month then so be it, he would.

To everyone's relief, Thorin was right, and the thoroughly searched collection of rocks provided a hiding place from any passing stranger with an open view of the stars above, which gave the hobbits a sense of comfort after spending so long underground.

There was no fire lit for fear of the smoke attracting goblins, but that was not the only reason that the company all sat a little closer together than usual.

"I don't know how I'm going to tell her." Nori murmured, uttering the first word's he had spoken since he had announced Alfr and Vidar's deaths to Thorin.

Dori looked at him and Nori sighed heavily.

"Kára. She's already lost Lóni. How am I supposed to tell her that I buried Alfr? How can I tell her that my brother has returned but both of hers are gone?"

"You tell her how it is, Nori." Dori returned thoughtfully. "And you'll hold her and make sure that she knows that you aren't going anywhere."

Nori laughed humourlessly. "If I even survive this…quest…"

"You will." Dori's voice was so fierce that for a moment Nori dared not reply, giving the nearby Balin a chance to add his voice.

"I don't know if I can do it."

"Do what?" Dori asked with a frown.

Balin gave a sad smile. "Face their families. I led so many good dwarves to their deaths, many that probably deserve this more than I do. I don't know how I can look their loved ones in the eye…"

"We followed you willingly, Balin." Ori insisted. "We knew what we might be getting into."

The old dwarf just shook his head.

Nori pulled out the scroll and unrolled it once more, pouring over the illegible missive. After staring at it for another five minutes he reluctantly passed it to his brother. "Ori, will you look at this for me?"

The scribe gave his brother a little smile and took the precious paper from Nori's protective hands. His lips traced the few words that he could read and he was disappointed to be unable to provide any more answers for his brother.

"I can't make out any more words than you could, I am so sorry." Sincerity poured from his voice as he handed back the scroll.

Nori sighed, pondering on the few words he could read.

_The – _not very helpful at all.

_Plague – _a little more useful and worrying but entirely out of context.

_Fifth – _could be in relation to anything.

_Missing – _again, worrying but out of context

_Of – _almost less helpful than '_the'_

_Kitchen – _out of context it meant nothing.

_Children – _very worrying the context of the other words.

It did not matter that he had nothing to go on. Alfr had died for that message, and Nori was determined to decipher it if it was the last thing he did. They had been warned against smoking for the same reason that they did not light a fire, but Nori clamped his pipe between his lips anyway.

Despite the solemn looks on all the companies' faces, only one person had an expression half as serious as Nori's.

Fíli could not swallow the lump in his throat.

Kíli had fallen asleep almost the moment they sat down, sheer exhaustion sending him into an instant slumber. The dark haired dwarf was slumped against a rock wall looking as if he would never wake again.

Fíli coughed, trying to clear his throat. "Kíli, wake up."

His little brother's eyes twitched underneath his eyelids but other than that Kíli did not stir.

Fíli shook Kíli's arm lightly, mindful of the bruises and scrapes that covered the younger dwarf. "Kíli!"

"'M up Th'rn!" He mumbled, before fixing his opening eyes on Fíli. "Jus'...bi'...l'nger pl'se?"

"We're not moving, Kíli, its dinner. You need to eat something." Fíli assured his brother, who closed his eyes in relief, before trying to prop himself up so he could accept the bread and salted ham that Fíli offered him.

"Thought the meat went ages ago..." He muttered, tearing into the food like a starved warg.

"Bilbo found some wrapped up in his pack. He says that it was preserved in Rivendell but won't last any longer after today."

Kíli nodded, shovelling more into his mouth before pausing. "Where's yours?"

"I already ate." Fíli lied easily.

Kíli clumsily raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes." Fíli insisted, before lowering his tone so that no one close by would hear. "You look awful, Kee. How do you feel?"

Kíli lowered his eyes. "Not too good."

Fíli nodded sympathetically, knowing how hard it was for Kíli to confess that he was that he was struggling. "I thought so."

"I wish we were able to slow down a little." Kíli admitted guiltily.

Fíli slung an arm over his brother's shoulder, drawing him close as Kíli's eating slowed down. "I know."

Kíli gave a soft sigh, snuggling down into Fíli's embrace as if they were children. "Fee?"

"Mmh?"

"I… uh… Nothing..." Kíli' soft sigh trailed off into nothingness and Fíli knew that sleep had claimed him once more.

To Fíli's dismay a little bread was still clutched in Kíli's fist - that Kíli had not been able to finish his meagre meal meant his brother was even weaker than he had first thought.

He tightened his grip around Kíli's shoulders and drew him closer, resting his cheek on his brother's brown hair.

"How is he doing?" Thorin asked, making Fíli jump.

"Not very well." The blond replied, and Thorin gave a heavy sigh, and Fíli continued. "He is weakening but he has been trying to sneak me his food for days now."

"He is too stubborn." Thorin mourned, and Fíli raised an eyebrow. His uncle fixed him with a sharp stare. "I am well aware that it was my downfall, Fíli - stubbornness, pride, sickness, stupidity!" The words were spat out with such bitterness that Fíli's expression slackened in shock. "I will not let these things be the downfall of my nephews."

As soon as the last word left his mouth Thorin sat down next to his elder sister-son, staring at the dark haired dwarf Fíli held with concern.

The salve prepared by Óin mixed with the elvish healing he had already received from Legolas had ensured that Fíli himself was in no immediate danger and the painful lacerations on his back were healing steadily.

Unfortunately, the best cure for most of Kíli's injuries was rest, something neither Legolas nor Óin could give him. Thorin had wondered Legolas could replenish some of Kíli's energy as he had for Fíli, but the elf had explained that it was a difficult process that would do very little.

It would not stop Kíli walking on beaten muscles and bruised limbs and putting strain on his injuries - meaning that while Fíli's wounds were beginning to heal, Kíli's were worsening moment by moment, and would continue to worsen until they were able to stop and rest for a few days. If they were lucky and the plan held, they might be able to shelter with the now-retired Beorn in his home in the wood, but they were still at least three day's walk away.

And Kíli…

"Thorin he won't last much longer without rest." Fíli could not help but blurt out.

Thorin nodded, his irritation showing through his clenched teeth. "But we _cannot_ afford to linger. We are being hunted, if we slow down we will all die."

"If we don't, Kíli…"

Thorin's voice was low enough that no one else would hear, but his promise was fierce and true. "I will _not _lose either of you again, Fíli, I swear to you."

Fíli could count on one hand the number of times he had doubted Thorin's word, and this was not one of those times. He nodded and rubbed circles into Kíli's shoulder with his hand, half wishing he was young enough to scream and wail and cry at the unfairness of the world.

Thorin wrapped an arm carefully around his eldest nephew's shoulders, shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Not very kingly of you." Fíli murmured with a small smile as he made himself comfortable between his uncle and brother.

"I do not believe that I am king anymore. That title now belongs to my cousin." Thorin said quietly.

Fíli was silent for a moment. "Do you mean to reclaim it? The throne?"

"I do not know. I do not know what claim I have now to any throne… surely only the Valar know what I should do..."

"So what _will_ you do?"

"I shall hold council with Dain, I think." Thorin mused. "I am sure that we will be able to come to an agreement of some sorts. I will not push for the throne if he wishes to remain king."

_It should be yours… _Fíli could not help but think, feeling drowsiness come over him. He closed his eyes and pretended that he was a boy again, unknowingly much like Kíli had when they were still in the goblin caves.

With minds full of memories of home and safety and warmth, the exhausted heirs of Durin all slipped softly to sleep.

Bilbo and Bofur had volunteered for the first watch, and the hobbit was glad to share a watch with the toy-making miner.

"Well, these few days have been downright awful." Bofur broke the comfortable silence about three hours into their watch, when there was no danger of waking anyone else.

Bilbo gave a little laugh. "Oh, I agree with you there. Most definitely. I cannot wait to get to Beorn's house, if he's still there. I hope that he is, it would be awful if something has happened to him…I mean it has been sixty years…"

"Oh, aye, I agree. That would not be good at all…" Bofur shook his head, absently rubbing at the bandages wrapped tightly around her head.

Bilbo noticed. "Are you alright, is your ear…?"

"It's painful, what's left of it." Bofur gave a tight little chuckle. "But it's nothing worse than anything I've had before."

"What's left of it?" Bilbo choked.

"Aye, I lost half me earlobe."

"Oh my goodness, has Óin-"

"Yes, yes." Bofur waved away the hobbit's worries with a wave of his hand. "How've you been anyway, Bilbo?"

"Oh, can't complain." Bilbo joked.

Bofur smiled, glancing over at the sleeping figure next to Bilbo. "How's Frodo? It's hard to tell with that lad sometimes…"

"I think he's alright but you are quite right. He isn't the open book he once was." Bilbo sighed heavily, staring at the same curly head that Bofur was looking at. "Sometimes I wonder if any of you have actually met the hobbit I adopted, the person he was before I messed it all up…"

"It wasn't your fault, Bilbo, you didn't know…" Bofur pondered this for the moment before changing the subject slightly. "He said his parents died when he was twelve, but you adopted him when he was twenty-one, no?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why didn't you adopt him right away?"

_Bilbo Baggins never wanted children of his own. He would have loved to have some, but as he was unmarried he was perfectly content to tell his stories to his numerous cousins and their children and leave the main responsibilities of parenthood. _

_When Drogo and Primula died, however, things changed. Though he knew that one should never pick favourites among one's family, Bilbo could not help but favour Frodo over the other hobbit children of his age, and that partly stemmed from his great affection for his parents. _

_They were among his best friends. One day they were there, having dinner at his house, laughing and feasting. _

_Not two weeks later…_

_"Please Uncle Bilbo, please!" _

_He felt like his heart was breaking as the child clung to his waistcoat. "Not today, Frodo." _

_"Why?" Frodo begged, trying desperately to dissuade Bilbo from leaving Brandy Hall. _

_"Oh, Frodo…I can't take you home. Not today." _

_The twelve year old child moaned and collapsed to the floor. _

_Instantly Bilbo was on the floor next to him. "Frodo, Frodo, what's wrong?" _

_Frodo did not move, and for a moment Bilbo was terrified that he was about to have a fit. But then he noticed that Frodo was crying, silent tears streaking down his cheeks. _

_"Oh, Frodo…" he bent down and rubbed the child's back softly. Frodo flew up and locked his hands around Bilbo's neck, sobbing uncontrollably. _

_As he was carried back into Brandy Hall Frodo started to cry even harder, and Bilbo carried him to a little unused sitting room, locking the door behind him. He sat down and settled Frodo into his lap, rocking the twelve year old as if he was only two. _

_"Please..." Frodo begged into Bilbo's waistcoat. _

_"Frodo, you have to stay in Brandy Hall." _

_"Why?" The little boy keened like an orphaned kitten. _

_"It's a much better place for you to be." _

_"Why?" Frodo pressed and Bilbo sighed. _

_"Frodo, do you know what a will is?" _

_Frodo shook his head, looking into Bilbo's pained eyes. _

_"It's written document that someone will make before they die so that their friends know what they want to happen if something bad occurs. For example, they write who they would like to leave the house to, or where they want their children to live." _

_"And my parents wanted me to live here?" _

_"Well, the trouble is, Frodo...your parents' will is missing and the one we've been left with was made when they got married. I was a witness to your parents' last will, the missing one, which means that by law I can't claim anything for ten years." _

_"Why?" Frodo sniffled. _

_"In case I made the will disappear and stole everything for myself. I was a very good burglar you know…" Bilbo teased a little and Frodo shuffled. _

_"But I _want _to come and live with you _now!_ You're not stealing me!" _

_"I know, oh, I know…" Bilbo soothed, cursing hobbit law to high heaven, though it made sense in theory. "But the law doesn't work like that." _

_"In ten years can I live with you?" Frodo begged. _

_"We will see." Bilbo smiled, but Frodo's face crumpled further. _

_"Oh…okay." _

_"What's wrong?" Bilbo was alarmed at the crushing of the little hope that had sprung behind Frodo's eyes. _

_"I u-u-underst-tand…" he hiccupped. _

_"What do you understand?" _

_"You don' want me to live with you!" _

_Bilbo sighed. "No, Frodo, no…" _

_Frodo leaned against his shoulder. "Really?" _

_"Yes. As soon as you're allowed you can come and live with me." Bilbo promised into the child's soft curls. He could almost feel Frodo's smile spread across his cheeks. _

He cleared his throat. "There were issues, with the will…"

"Ah…" Bofur nodded knowingly. "Tricky things, wills. Especially in Erebor."

"Really?" Bilbo smiled.

"Oh yes. I was there when Balin and Ori were deciding on the official format with some of Dain's scribes. One of them suggested putting an 'in case of dragons' clause at the end."

Bilbo laughed. "Well, it could be useful."

Bofur nodded, still smiling.

"How is life as nobility treating you?" Bilbo asked, well aware that none of the company were considered as anything less in the dwarven kingdoms.

To Bilbo's surprise, Bofur shrugged. "I like it, but it took some getting used to, let me tell you."

"I can imagine…" Bilbo nodded. "I-"

"Wait!" Bofur hissed, holding up a hand.

Far off in the distance, something howled. Shivers went up Bilbo's spine and he looked at Bofur who swallowed.

"What do we do?" Bilbo hissed.

There was nowhere to run.

"We pray they don't come any closer." Bofur growled unexpectedly.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire…" Bilbo whispered.

"Let's hope no-"

An animalistic screech cut off Bofur's reply and a beastly head the size of a cauldron lurched into their camp.

There was not even time to scream.

**See? I can even leave a filler chapter with a cliffhanger :P**

******Honestly those last reviews were EPIC, and welcome to those people just joining this story, I'm glad you still exist :D and I'm grateful to EVERYONE who's been here since day one :) You're all amazing!**

**Anyways hope that was okay! **

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**


	14. Chapter 14: Healing Subconsciously

**Hi! Thanks for my great reviews, I love you all! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I'm halfway through the next one now :)**

**The name of this chapter is a song as usual but its lyrics are not as appropriate as the title so I haven't included any :) (fits in at the end) anyways... I think I like this chapter, but I'm not sure, so please read and tell me what ya think! **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Fourteen # Healing Subconsciously #**

"Gwaihir!" Gandalf sighed in relief as he staggered to his feet. "What on earth are you doing here?"

The eagle that had woken up the company with his screech and the intrusion of his great head nodded slightly. "We have heard that the company of Thorin Oakenshield was gifted with the Blessing of the Ancients. We were curious to see how these new events would unfurl."

"How did you find out?" Thorin asked suspiciously, making his way to the front of the company while he subtly banished his weariness from his mind.

"A little bird told me." Gwaihir replied, with an expression something akin to a smirk.

Thorin made to question him further, but he was interrupted by the meddlesome wizard. "I know that you have not come here to simply gaze upon our misfortune, my old friend. You could have done that just as easily from the sky."

"Nay, Gandalf. Are you aware that there are more than fifty warg riders on your tail?"

"Fifty?" Fíli spluttered, his efforts to wake his brother increasing with a sudden rush of vigour.

"If you do not count the riderless wargs." The bird bowed his head in affirmation.

"How many more wargs are there?" Thorin asked slowly.

"About a dozen, that I can see."

"Over sixty of them…" Thorin murmured, listening to Fíli's quiet mutters.

"Come on, Kíli, we have to go, you have to wake up now. Just a little further, then you can rest again, come on…"

Thorin gritted his teeth, before looking back at the bird. "How far away are they?"

Understanding the dwarf's intentions, Gwaihir shook his head. "You cannot outrun them."

"Well we cannot fight over sixty!" Thorin spat, though he was not sure who he was attacking.

"And you will not." The eagle puffed out his chest a little. "We have come to aide you in your journey – sixty years ago we bore you to Carrock, and now, if you desire it, we will bear you there once more."

Thorin was shocked into silence. Gandalf had warned them that they could not rely on the eagles this time to save them, and the wizard asked the question that Thorin would have, had his tongue not been tied by the surprise.

"We would be most grateful, old friend, but what on earth inspired you to come?"

The eagle bowed his head at Gandalf's gratitude as he replied. "You are well aware of our hatred of orcs. They are regrouping, not only in the Misty Mountains but also in the Westfold, and near Lamgedon in the Kingdoms of Rohan and Gondor. This does not sit well with us, and it will be most entertaining for us to vex them."

"The Kingdoms of Rohan and Gondor, you say?" Gandalf mused, before turning to Frodo. "Was that not why Aragorn sought the advice of Elrond?"

"Yes. According to Faramir the orcs are of little threat to Gondor unless they rally under a leader." The young hobbit recalled.

"There are some who believe that your Blessing somehow influenced the reformation of the orcs, though despite the many theories the facts remain hidden, even from the eyes of the eagles." Gwaihir's tone was low and serious, and Thorin narrowed his eyes.

"Who else _knows_ of our Blessing?" he asked slowly, and this time the eagle answered him directly.

"A few of the woodsmen, though those that know are largely keeping the information to themselves. You passed through Rivendell, and I believe that the young prince now returning to Gondor will pass the news to his king. Of the woodsmen that do know, a few believe that you were the unwilling instigators of whatever event is about to occur."

"How do the woodsmen know? Did the elves tell them?" Thorin felt the sharp glances of both Legolas and Gandalf, but the eagle shook his head.

"No. I am aware that they caught a pair of orc scouts waiting for a company to exit goblin town, and they tortured more information out of the creatures."

A howl called the hairs on the back of Thorin's neck to attention, and eagle screeches replied from the flock of birds behind Gwaihir.

"We cannot linger any longer." The eagle warned. "If you want our help then you must leave with us immediately."

Thorin glanced at the wizard, but his hesitation was momentary. "We move out, now!"

Instantly the entire company grabbed their belongings and followed Gandalf out to where the rest of the eagles waited. They mounted with very mixed reactions- Frodo, Legolas and Nori all looked content and even excited the fly on the great birds, whereas both Bilbo and Dori looked as if they were about to have a heart attack. Once again the majority of the company doubled up, with Bilbo holding tightly to an amused Frodo's clock, and Ori offering a hand to his oldest brother, who looked positively ill.

Unsurprisingly Bifur and Bofur shared another eagle, while Dwalin, Gandalf, Bombur and Legolas all rode alone. Glóin shared with his son while Balin and Óin took another bird. At Thorin's request, Fíli surrendered his half-asleep brother to his uncle, riding with the enthusiastic Nori.

"My lord." A female eagle approached the leader of the dwarves, and Thorin sat on the great bird's back with a mutter of appreciation, before helping Kíli up in front of him. His younger nephew stifled a yawn with a tiny moan of pain.

"We will rest soon, Kíli. I swear it." Thorin murmured, preparing himself as the bird launched off the small rock and flew into the air with a few powerful flaps of her wings.

Thorin grabbed Kíli's arm, having never rode atop of one of the birds before, a horrible, sickening fear gripping his stomach. He was instantly relieved that he had been unconscious the first time the eagles had carried them, and he must have muttered something of the sort, because Kíli laughed and turned around, his exhausted face alive with the exhilaration of the flight.

Gwaihir and Gandalf were at the front of the flock, but suddenly they turned, peeling away with several other birds, including Thorin's, to fly back up the mountain.

"What are you doing?" Thorin's angry voice covered up the sudden increase in fear he felt, but the eagle gave what could have been a smile – it was hard to tell with the beaked creatures.

"Wait and see, my lord."

Suddenly they plummeted at an incredible speed towards a pack of snarling orcs and wargs, pulling up at the last second with jeering screeches aimed at the evil beings below.

Kíli gave another breathless laugh, and Thorin watched as the exhilaration lending life to his nephew's face gave temporary energy to his heart. Kíli cupped his own hands around his mouth, adding his own taunts and hoots to the tumult of mockery bombarding the orcs.

The abuse that the orcs flung back was nothing compared to the boisterous insults and jeers they received, and the would-be-attackers had made the mistake of leaving their bows at home. The eagles dived over them several more times, and Thorin was far from surprised when Nori, Bofur, Bifur, Glóin, Fíli and Dwalin joined in with the catcalling with glee, though he was a little surprised to see Ori and the two hobbits participating with just as much enthusiasm.

He gave a small smirk himself, though to his immense embarrassment he was not sure that he wanted to open his mouth – his body seemed to be having a battle with itself, and he was growing surer and surer that if he opened his mouth his stomach would not care that he had a reputation to keep and empty itself over the bird that carried him anyway.

The flight could not end soon enough for the once King Under the Mountain, and as soon as the eagle touched down on Carrock Thorin jumped off her back, sincerely thanking her just as much for the landing as for the ride itself.

To his humiliation, he staggered and fell over as he hit the floor, but Kíli knew better than to laugh.

_Not that that ever stopped him before…_Thorin thought dryly, looking up as his nephew slipped down off the eagle with what looked like grace until he flopped to the floor with a loud thunk.

"Kíli!" he knelt down by the younger dwarf, putting a hand on his shoulder and steeling his still churning stomach. "Kíli, are you alright?"

"Fine." Kíli forced out, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm fine."

He swatted Thorin's hand away mildly, pushing himself up and onto his feet. He staggered a little but Fíli was there to subtly support his brother, so Thorin busied himself with talking to Gandalf about what they would do next as the eagles left them again.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked the wizard, who sighed heavily.

"It appears that we are out of luck. According to Gwaihir, Beorn passed away last year." Gandalf's grieved face showed his worry, and Thorin glanced back at the company with a heavy frown.

"We need to find shelter soon, Gandalf. True shelter."

"We may be able to find shelter with the woodsmen, but I do not know any of them by name." Gandalf mourned, glancing over the company the same way that Thorin did, judging the injuries and the strengths the dwarves, elf and hobbit possessed. "If we cannot, we may be forced to seek refuge with the elves in Mirkwood."

Thorin's gaze shot up with anger, and the rest of the listening company froze. "No."

"Thorin-"

"No."

"For goodness sakes! I am naming a last resort – you have been given a second chance, Thorin Oakenshield! Do not let old hatred's destroy everything and everyone you love!" Gandalf snapped, looking angrier than he had for the entire journey. "I thought that by now you would value the lives of your kin over the pride that _you know _could kill them!"

Thorin glared at the wizard with fiery fury, but he did not argue back. A new nausea took a hold of his stomach, one that argued that Gandalf might be right.

"If we cannot shelter with the woodsmen, I know elves we could shelter with near the outskirts of Mirkwood who would not send word to my father." Legolas volunteered quietly. "If you wished, he would never know that you entered the wood."

Thorin exhaled heavily, and if dwarves could breathe fire he would have caused more desolation than Smaug himself. "If we cannot shelter with the woodsmen, you would have my gratitude if that could be arranged."

Legolas bowed his head with a small smile.

"It is settled then." Gandalf shook his head, setting off down the stairs and muttering to himself about the never-ending stubbornness of dwarves.

After a long moment's pause, Frodo nodded at Thorin with a smile before following the wizard down the stairs with the same unconditional trust a child placed in their parents or grandparents. Bilbo was quick to follow his nephew and the others began to follow on. As he expected, Fíli and Kíli were the last to leave Carrock, both grinning at Thorin and ensuring that he was following them before they got out of sight.

Balin followed his brother with slow, heavy footsteps, musing on the events of the past few days. Despite the knowledge that he could have done nothing for the young dwarves they had buried on the cold slopes of the Misty Mountains, the old leader still felt guilty.

A large part of him hoped that he never reached Erebor. He did not want to see the faces of the families of those he had led to death, however often he was assured that no one blamed him. He did not want their forgiveness – he did not feel as though he deserved it. It had been a folly idea from the beginning, but some part of him insisted on leading his kin to inevitable massacre.

Balin wallowed in self-pity until he walked right into Dwalin at the bottom of the stairs. "What's happened, why have we stopped…?"

The mutters that had suddenly erupted ceased as soon as they had begun and Balin stared at the young man standing in front of them.

He was tall, with a stature similar to Beorn's if Balin's memory served him correctly. It was not only his stature that was reminiscent of the old skin-changer – he had the same dark eyes and dark hair, but unlike Beorn he had no beard, and was completely clean shaven. The easy grin that spread across his face was also different from the old skin-changer than they had met, and he spoke to them with a clear, confident voice.

"You must be Thorin Oakenshield and company."

"You are correct. Who are you?" Thorin asked guardedly, his hand on his sword.

_Beorn's son, I'd wager… _Balin thought to himself

"My name is Grimbeorn; I believe you stayed with my father…"

"Ah, you are Beorn's son." Gandalf smiled a little smugly as he connected the dots. Balin could not help but feel a little smug himself that he had arrived at the right conclusion before the wizard.

"Yes I am. You are the wizard Gandalf. My father spoke of you often." Grimbeorn's voice was as easy as his smile, and it was obvious that the tall man was both relaxed and comfortable despite the numerous hands on weapons.

The white wizard raised an eyebrow delicately. "Indeed? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing." Grimbeorn grinned. "From my father's tales, had he not met you, and the company of dwarves, he would have most probably remained a recluse. Then he would have never met my mother and the Beornings would still be running around the wood like savages. Gwaihir told me this morning that he had heard that Thorin Oakenshield had received the Blessing of the Ancients and he was planning to help, so I came here to offer what aide I can."

"If you could shelter us we would be grateful." Thorin announced, his hand leaving his sword in a gesture of trust, and the young man nodded.

"Of course. I live in my father's house – not many of the other woodsmen come near there out of respect for Beorn so we will be alone." Grimbeorn explained as he turned, beckoning for them to follow him towards the wood. The company slowly started to follow, and Balin started to move his tired feet once more, his unhappiness making way for his endless curiosity.

"Do you mind that _we_ are going there?" Thorin asked with a little concern.

"No, not at all. My father spoke most highly of you; he would not mind that you are returning at all." Grimbeorn turned to grin at Thorin to reinforce his words.

The walk to Beorn's house seemed to take hours for Nori, but from the sun's movement across the sky he could tell that it was less than one hour. The familiar fields drew closer with the large buzzing bees, and eventually the wooden house once again came into view.

A young woman who appeared to be about twenty years old slipped out from the door to the shock of the entire company. Balin noted that she was pretty, for a daughter of men. She had long black hair braided over her shoulder that reached her waist, with the same dark eyes as Grimbeorn, and though her features were far more delicate she stood at least two inches higher than he did.

"You said that we would be alone." Dwalin growled low enough for the woman not to here.

A splash of guilt coloured Grimbeorn's cheeks. "Ah… Forgive me; we will not be completely alone here…This is my sister, Amalie, she has lived with me since my mother passed away two months ago. It's so normal for her to be here that I overlooked her."

"Again, Grim?" Amalie shook her head as she heard her brother's words. "Forgive my brother, he is a fool and failed to inherit my mother's brains."

"Amalie." Grimbeorn sighed, his cheeks colouring again.

"Ah, there you go." She teased jovially, pinching his cheek before he could slap her hand away. "Blushing again like a little girl kissed for the first time!"

Balin noted Kíli's badly covered up laughter as Grimbeorn groaned. "Amalie!"

"Forgive me, brother." The woman struggled to place a serious look on her face and turned to Thorin. "I have set up the back room for you to rest and there is food in the kitchen whenever you want it. I didn't know if you wanted to eat or sleep first, I'm sorry to say that I'm not the best hostess in Middle Earth."

"No, you spend far too much time running wild in the wood with Caver to be a decent housewife." Grimbeorn said absently, and it was Amalie's turn to blush.

"This way." She held the door open, greeting each member as they past and repeating each of their names under her breath.

Balin wondered how the intimidating recluse they had met sixty years ago could father two children as open and trustful as the man and woman they were meeting. Guessing that it must be to do with the mother, Balin lay down to sleep on the soft bedding roll provided with a contented sigh.

Of the entire company only the hobbits, Bombur, Dori and Nori chose to eat first, and by the time they returned to the back room, not a single dwarf lay awake.

Ori's open book was clutched in his hand as he snored lightly. Somehow Bofur's hat was on Bifur's head, and Bofur's head was rested on Bifur's stomach.

In the corner, Dwalin was propped against the wall as if he had tried to keep watch, but his closed eyes and relaxed countenance were clear signs that he was asleep if the fact that his head was resting on Glóin's was not evidence enough.

Kíli and Fíli were sleeping with identical smiles, tangled together as usual, but Óin, Gimli, Balin and Thorin had all managed to find their way to their own bed rolls.

Gandalf _looked _asleep, but no one could be truly sure with the wizard, and Legolas smiled sleepily at those who had chosen to eat first.

Bombur settled down by the feet of his brother and cousin, while Dori and Nori took up the bedrolls either side of Ori, leaving Bilbo and Frodo with the bedrolls closest to the door.

Bilbo sighed, a wistful smile across his face.

"What?" Frodo murmured, smiling a little himself.

"It's gone…" Bilbo's reply was absent, as if he was replying to himself instead of his cousin.

"What's gone?" Frodo's smile strengthened at the vague answer.

"I'm not sure…" Bilbo admitted, frowning lightly. "I feel lighter than I used to. I feel…I feel like _me _again, Frodo. Before the r…well…I feel more like my old self than I have in a good long while, and I like it."

"So you should." Frodo smiled. "You certainly look it."

Bilbo smiled back, settling down next to Frodo. "How do you feel, Frodo?"

The young hobbit's beam faded a little but it did not leave his face, instead transforming from a joyful grin to a gentle smile. "If I am honest, I am very tired and still a bit sore, emotionally exhausted, more than a little afraid, but…at the same time I am feeling better. Better than I did in the Shire. Despite everything, something feels better here. Though it may just be that I feel so much relief to rest without worry that the whole world seems like a better place."

"True, true…" Bilbo nodded with a little laugh.

The two hobbits were claimed quickly by sleep, but they did not know that they had touched the tip of an iceberg.

As the entire company slipped into the blissful unaware, not even Gandalf was aware of the complexity of the Blessing that had given them new life.

Few powers were older or stronger than the Ring of Sauron, but the Blessing of the Ancients was.

If elf eyes could see the raw magic that the Blessing was made of, Legolas would have seen the Blessing weaving around the two hobbits that night, from their curly heads to curly toes. He might have feared, but he would have been wrong to fear.

They were already feeling the effects, or rather the lack of them.

It may have brought pain and trouble with it, and it may be threatening their lives, but the Blessing of the Ancients was freeing Bilbo Baggins from the shadow of the ring, and somehow its courtesy was extending to Frodo.

Eventually he would have to pay the price, but for now, Frodo Baggins was being freed from a burden that he never should have borne.

Not even Legolas could see it, but the two people watching the company could sense it.

"I like them." Amalie murmured to her brother.

"Already?" he raised an eyebrow. "That's early, even for you."

She shrugged, speaking with an uncharacteristic sobriety. "There's a feeling of peace about them. Do you feel it? It feels like they are bringing something _good _with them, especially the little ones with the hairy feet. I believe Papa called the older one a bunny, though I don't quite see why… Bunnies or no, you don't often feel such _good… _auras these days, especially when the darkness of Sauron is just only starting to diminish and let in the light. They bring light with them, I am sure of it. Do you feel it, Grim?"

"A little." Grimbeorn admitted, but then he grinned. "But I transformed earlier this morning, my senses are still fuzzy from the change… you know how it is. I think that you're imagining things. You just think the little ones are adorable."

Amalie shrugged, before flashing a dangerously toothy grin at her brother and reverting back to her usual quirky self. "Whatever you say, brother. I am going to go and howl at the moon."

**Well, less of a cliff hanger here, hope you likey! **

**I hope you like Grim and Amalie, I know some people don't like OCs and although Grimbeorn's an actual character I've never read about him other than Wikipedia so I used my imagination. I hope they're not too unTolkien All OCs are added for a purpose, believe it or not Nimmeth (little orphaned girl from a while ago) will later become important in the character development of one you may not expect ;) **

**Anyways, thanks for reading, please review :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Glad You Came

**Hola! Thanks for the reviews, I'm glad that no one hate's Amalie's guts! With this next chapter, I wrote from the perspective of two of the most difficult dwarves to write for me, Nori and Óin, so please bear with me if they're a little OOC. Amalie's first purpose is revealed in this chapter, I hope its okay. **

**Anyways, I hope you enjoy, it was a little tricky to right and I ****_think _****I'm pleased with it. **

**Read, Enjoy, Review **

**Chapter Fifteen # Glad You Came #**

"The sun goes down, the stars come out

And all that counts is here and now,

My universe will never be the same

I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came." The Wanted, Glad You Came

_"Master Nori?" _

_"Mmh?" the dwarf asked, barely looking up from Erebor's extensive plans. _

_"The King wishes to know if you have chosen the new recruits yet?" a young messenger came closer to the desk. _

_"No, not yet…" Nori replied absently, still scrutinising the maps. "The feast with the nobility of Dale could be a nightmare…particularly if Calder continues to shoot off his mouth at every man and his grandmother after three ales…How _he _got into the council I will never know…" _

_The messenger shuffled nervously. "Yes sir, but wouldn't more hands be useful for the watchmen at the feast?" _

_Nori sighed. "It would, but we don't have time to train them. Untrained hands can be more dangerous than no hands at all." _

_When the messenger lingered after his nod of understanding, Nori finally looked up at the dwarf, studying him for a moment. The young messenger looked vaguely familiar but Nori could not think of a name so he knew they had never been introduced. The dwarf could not have been more than eighty at a push – his blonde beard was little more than stubble. _

_"Do you have a question of your own?" he asked, not unkindly. _

_"If you don't mind me asking, sir." The messenger nodded tentatively. _

_Nori's response was tainted with amusement. "Ask away, though I am rather busy." _

_The young dwarf cleared his throat. "How would someone become a watcher?" _

_"They would have to apply, be selected and then pass a test at the end of an intesnsive training period. But it is not a job for the heavy footed or weak minded – whatever the guards may tell you. Bing a watcher is not about being a lookout. We're the eyes and ears of Erebor, and we have foiled more plots than I care to count, from petty theft to attempted regicide. We are the first level of defence of this kingdom, sooner even than the guard, and any recruit would have to be sharp minded and have both quick fingers and feet." Nori felt himself gloating a little but he could not help but be proud of the elite group he had come to lead. _

_The watchers' role was one created hundreds of years ago in the Iron Hills by an old spymaster, and when Dain had brought the system with him Nori was the first to join, working his way up the ranks in the forty odd years since reclamation of Erebor until he had reached his current position – Erebor's Head Watcher. _

_Dori was so proud. _

_The messenger bowed his head. "Would it matter if an applicant was young, or had an…interesting past…?" _

_That caught Nori's attention, and he pushed away from the table to address the messenger properly. "Who do you have in mind?" _

_The messenger's cheeks coloured and he shuffled for a moment, looking tongue-tied. _

_"You want to apply?" Nori asked almost immediately. _

_He nodded without meeting Nori's eyes. _

_"What's this 'interesting past'?" Nori wondered aloud, and the young dwarf sighed. _

_"My father was married to another before he married my mother. It was…arranged." _

_"Ah." Nori nodded, his eyes darkening. In dwarven society all over Middle Earth, arranged marriages were deeply frowned upon, and with so few dwarves ever marrying more than once, dwarves in the situation of this messenger would be well used to prejudice and discrimination. "Go on." _

_The messenger's face betrayed no emotion, but his voice seemed a little crestfallen. "They were young and my grandfather was...not particularly one you would wish to anger. They remained living with my grandfather's people after my brother was born, but when my sister was born my father and his wife sought refuge in the Iron Hills. There they separated, though she died a few months later. My father remarried many years later and I was born, but my grandfather came looking for my father about twenty years ago, accusing him of dishonouring the family. He killed my mother, and ever since my family has been in disgrace." _

_"Why your family?"_

_"Because my father refused to disown his own father after the murder." The young dwarf's tone was cold. "If he had done that, we would have been killed, my siblings and I…Even so, few agreed with my father, instead scorning him for his apparent lack of courage…" _

_"So your entire family is still in disgrace?" Nori mused, keeping his face a hard mask. "How old are you?" _

_"Sixty." _

_Nori's eyes bulged out of his head and his mask fell away with shock. "Sixty?" _

_A slight grin flitted across the dwarf's face for the first time. "Yes." _

_"Surely you are too young to be looking for work such as this? Most dwarves your age are content with being a messenger or the like…" _

_He twitched uncomfortably. "My father is long dead and we have never had much money, sir. My brother left for Moria two days ago and my sister works, but she cannot bring in enough money for the both of us, she is only a seamstress. I always admired the watchers in the Iron Hills, and I have always wanted to be one of them." _

_Nori nodded. "Alright…what makes you think you _could_ be a watcher?" _

_This time the dwarf's grin was genuine. "I see things. Like two days ago in the banquet hall when the Chief Guard 'lost' his coin bag." _

_Nori's eyes widened, and he was impressed. Not even Dwalin himself had noticed when Nori had picked his pockets. It had only been for fun, and Nori had of course returned his friend's coin to Dwalin's own living quarters, which irritated the Chief Guard no end. "Really?" _

_"Yes. And I can do this." He passed over the quill Nori had been using not five minutes before. _

_Nori looked at the table in shock and a grin spread across his face. "It takes a lot of skill to trick a trickster. You have quick fingers indeed." _

_"I do. Though I don't steal things." He added hastily. _

_"But you have." Nori paused as the young dwarf's cheeks coloured. "My oldest brother has a different father to me an' my younger brother. You're not going to be judged about your family's past here." _

_The young dwarf hazarded a smile, but Nori could tell from the look in his eyes that he had not expected such an answer. _

_"You know, I think we could make a recruit out of you yet." _

_"Truly?" the messenger asked, his face lighting up like a firework. _

_"Yes." Nori could not help but smile. "Now go and tell the King that with his blessing I would like to recruit _you_, but we will be unable to take on anyone else until his damn circus – I mean the dinner with Dale – is over. Got it?" _

_"Yes sir!" the messenger beamed. _

_"Wait! What is your name?" _

_"Alfr, son of Gunnar, sir." _

_Nori narrowed his eyes in recognition of the name. "I think I was speaking with your sister about two days ago." _

_The dwarf's eyes sparkled as he backed out of the room. "Kára likes you very much, Master Nori. Though if you tell her I said that she _will_ skin me alive." _

Nori slipped out of his dream-like memory into consciousness at Beorn's house with little more than a sigh. Alfr had proved to be the best of the new recruits he took on in his whole time as the head watcher – he had left the young dwarf in charge in his absence, an incredible responsibility for a dwarf of only eighty. A few of Dain's council members accused him of nepotism, but the rest of the watchers were quick to defend their best member.

He sighed. Now that he did not have the immediate task of survival to concentrate on he was left with nothing but his thoughts for company, meaning that he had all the time in the world to mourn for young Alfr.

The company around him was stirring, but Nori did not want to talk to anyone, not yet.

"Where are you going?" Ori asked suddenly, punctuating his question with a loud yawn as Nori stepped over his head.

"Just outside for a bit." Nori shrugged toward the door.

Ori narrowed his eyes. "You're upset."

Nori could not help but snort. "A little."

Ori knew his brother too well to be offended. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"N…" He did not want to talk to anyone. Or did he? "You want to come?"

"Do you mind?" Ori asked.

"Not at all." Nori smiled, sadly but genuinely, and Ori was instantly on his feet.

Nori laughed a little as Ori nudged their elder brother. "Dori, I'm going for a walk with Nori. _Don't panic_."

"Mmh." Dori replied, his furrowed eyebrows the only true sign that he had heard anything before he huffed back to sleep.

On their way out the two brothers passed Grimbeorn, who was kind enough to give them some warm bread as a breakfast on the go, with only two requests.

"Please avoid the bees. If you stick to the northern side of the house you should be fine. And please, refrain from hunting while you're here."

"Of course." Nori bowed, Ori following in suit, and the two brothers wandered outside.

For a while they meandered through their surroundings in silence, but for once Nori was the one to break it. "I wish the two of you knew each other."

Ori did not say anything, for which Nori was grateful. He did not look at his brother, instead staring into the trees in front of him.

"I used to wish he'd been able to meet you, but now I'm wishing you'd be able to meet him. He was…bah!" he turned away, closing his eyes. "I can't do it, I can't talk…about him…I…"

"Then don't."

Nori collapsed onto a log, propping his elbows on his knees and dropping his head onto his hands. Ori sat next to him, putting a hand on his brother's arm.

"I don't know what I'm going to tell her…" Nori could not stop the sobs that threatened to push their way into his voice.

Ori's arm wrapped around Nori's shoulder, and for the first time in a very long time, Nori allowed himself to cry.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Óin sighed heavily as he closed the door behind him.

Early that morning, Grimbeorn and Amalie had transformed a room in the back into a bathroom, complete with ten tubs of steaming water.

Most of the company had rejoiced at the chance to wash away the grim and blood of the past few weeks in something other than an icy river, especially when Grimbeorn introduced the pumping system that meant that each individual got their own clean bathwater – something usually unheard of in private homes.

Óin himself had been extremely relieved at first, but his latest task had darkened his mood considerable.

Thorin had ordered Kíli to go straight to Óin after bathing, and for once the youngest dwarf in the company obeyed without question.

Thorin appeared almost immediately after Óin left the room they had slept in. "Well?"

"It's like I thought before. None of the lad's injuries are life-threatening, but he's done himself no favours walking on them for so long."

"We knew that already." Thorin growled, but Óin knew better than to take offense. "Do you know anything new?"

"I was able to inventory his wounds…he has torn a ligament in his left leg but it's not a bad tear, I've seen far worse in my time. He just needs to stay off it for a few days. I don't think there's an inch of his torso free of bruises, and I suspect there may be a fractured rib but all we can do for that is pray that I'm wrong. The rest of his injuries are superficial bruises, scrapes and a few shallow lacerations. Incredible painful, but not incredibly dangerous. The lad should be fine as long as he applies the salves and ointments I gave him and rests as long as he can."

Thorin sighed in obvious relief, before scrutinising the healer's face. "What more is there?"

"Nothing."

"Óin-"

"You did not see the bruises, Thorin. That's all. " Óin said gravelly, and Thorin walked straight into the room Óin had just left.

Óin sighed and walked back into the dining room, leaving Thorin and his nephews alone.

In all his years healing, Óin had never seen so many bruises as the ones that now covered Kíli. He was amazed that Kíli had walked for as long as he had when his chest, back, arms and legs were almost completely black. The muscles underneath were also undoubtedly bruised, but to Óin's relief the blows to his head seemed to have been minimal. Many of the bruises were twinned with scrapes and lacerations, some that were still seeping blood when Óin inspected them.

"Any ale here?" he asked Glóin gruffly, and his brother passed him a pint. He grunted his thanks and raised the drink to his lips. He recoiled slightly at the sweet honey-like taste, but the tang of the alcohol was also present so he drank it as quickly as he could.

"It was that bad?" Glóin frowned sympathetically.

"Aye…" Óin shook his head. "It's a wonder the lad didn't collapse before we got here."

"But he'll be alright now?"

"A little rest and a continual supply of food and water should have him right in a week or so, as long as he rests and applies the salves like I told him to." Óin nodded as Grimbeorn walked into the room.

"Rest and food and water for a week? I can supply you with those if you are happy to linger here for that long." The skin-changer offered.

"T'isn't our decision, but I am pretty sure that Thorin will gratefully take you up on that offer." Óin nodded, shooting Glóin a dark look that spoke clearly to his brother. _He's not going anywhere with Kíli in this state unless he has to. _

Óin kept a careful eye on the youngest heir of Durin over the next few days. For the first two days Kíli did not even emerge from the bedroom other than to get food and relieve himself, catching up on some much needed rest. He did as he was told, using the crutches their hosts had kindly provided to take all of the weight off of his bad leg and following all of Óin's instructions to the letter, for which the old healer was immensely grateful.

He knew it was too good to last.

"Óin, are the crutches truly necessary?"

"What?" Óin grabbed his ear trumpet and held it to his ear and frowned at Kíli. "What did you say, laddie?"

"Why do I need the crutches?" Kíli said loudly, waving one of said crutches around above his head.

Óin grabbed the wood and pushed it to the floor. "To keep the pressure off your leg-"

"But I've been walking on it for days-"

"Exactly! Now unless you want me to confine you to bed another day then be quiet and use the crutches." Óin's threatening tone put the disappointed Kíli back in his place.

"Can I go outside?" he asked hopefully. "Please?"

Óin sighed with a smile. "Aye."

"Thank you!" Kíli grinned.

Óin watched as the young dwarf called for Fíli and Frodo to help him get outside, and he noted how the two days of bed rest had succeeded in restoring Kíli's cheerful nature and perpetual energy.

By the fourth day, though he continued to observe Kíli's behaviour, Óin found himself able to enjoy the hospitality of Beorn's two children. Grimbeorn and Amalie were good hosts, for all their oddities, following in their father's footsteps by feeding their guests on bread and honey, though their table also included a large array of vegetables and even a little fish.

"How are you, Master Óin?" Amalie asked him cheerily as she walked into the dining room.

Óin for one had been very impressed when the two skin-changers had learnt the names of every member by the second morning, and he nodded at the woman with a smile. "I'm very well thank you, missy. How are you this morning?"

She grinned. "I'm very well myself, thank you. What are you doing?"

"Not very much." Óin replied simply.

"Mind if I join you?" Amalie asked, gesturing to the chair opposite him.

"Not at all." Óin motioned for her to sit down, which she did.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Master Óin? I would think that this would be very boring for you?" the girl linked her fingers together and stuck her elbows on the table, leaning her head on her hands.

"How do you mean?" Óin frowned.

"Well if I find it boring, sitting around in the house all day, so it must be incredibly boring for you all, you're all used to adventure." Amalie's wide eyes and childish question made Óin laugh.

"Trust me lassie, when you're used to adventure you appreciate 'boring' all the more. I am not bored here. It is nice, sometimes, to have nothing to do."

Amalie pondered this for a moment. "I disagree. It's much more interesting for me now that you are here and I have _something_ to do. Normally I have to entertain myself; Grim is always busy being a leader."

Curiosity was quick to get the better of the old healer. "What do you do to entertain yourself, if you do not mind me asking?"

"I run." Amalie's eyes lit up. "That is what I do. I run. And running becomes so dull when you have nowhere to run to and nothing to run from."

"Where do you run?" Óin queried.

She shrugged. "Just around here, and sometimes near Carrock. Grimbeorn gets angry if I venture too close to Mirkwood because father did not trust those forests, and I will not go near the mountains. I do not care much for goblins."

"Much like your father, I recall." Óin said softly, and she nodded with a smile.

"Yes. I am not much like him in many other ways." She mused, a mournful edge setting into her voice.

"And that disappoints you?"

She fixed him in a curious stare. "Yes, it does... I always idolised my father, but however hard I try I can never be quiet enough or careful enough to be like him."

"But you are young yet, lassie."

She nodded. "I'm twenty one."

"If you were a dwarf you would still be a child." Óin pointed out.

"Really?" she asked curiously. "That's a funny thought. Do you have children?"

"No, I don't." Óin shook his head slowly. "I never married, lass."

"Oh…" Amalie was quiet for a moment. "Did you ever want to get married?"

"Me? No, no…I never met the right woman." Óin smiled. "And I am lucky, I have a nephew."

"Master Gimli?"

"Aye."

"And that's truly enough for you?"

Óin nodded thoughtfully. "I never really wanted children of my own."

"Fair enough." Amalie nodded. "So how-"

A loud knock on the door interrupted the rest of her sentence and she frowned.

"Who on earth…"

"Am! Let me in!"

She frowned. "That's Caver. Excuse me, Master Óin."

Óin nodded with a smile as the girl went to open the door. He liked talking to Amalie – she managed to keep her voice at an audible volume without making him feel like an invalid – something that he appreciated greatly and something that few members of the company could do.

As soon as Amalie opened the door a figure burst in and instinctively Óin analysed any potential threats. Despite the heavy knock there appeared to be very few – the young boy who fell through the door could not have been more than twelve or thirteen years old, assuming that he was a man, and despite the wickedly sharp hunting knife that hung from his belt and the impressive muscles for his size, he was still a child, and barely two feet taller than Óin himself.

"Caver? What's wrong?" Amalie frowned as he gripped her wrists and panted heavily.

As the boy caught his breath the door behind Óin opened and Thorin, Dwalin and Legolas all emerged, hearing the boy's first words.

"They're coming!"

Amalie's frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"

"The orcs and the goblins, they've moved down from the mountains and they'll be here in less than five days' time!" Caver cried, glancing at the dwarves and the elf.

"What do you mean?" Amalie swallowed.

"Exactly what I said! Where is Grimbeorn?"

"Um, I'm not sure…" Amalie blinked.

Caver's fear shone from every inch of his little face. "I was told that they are looking for Thorin Oakenshield's company, they said they would kill us all if we were hiding them."

Óin heard Thorin's curse. "We should leave."

"No." Amalie's eyes flashed dangerously at Thorin. She turned to Caver. "How many?"

"More than eighty armed warg riders."

"More than eighty?" her eyes bulged.

"That's what I was told." Caver nodded vigorously.

"Alright…." She bit her lip and turned to Óin. "Kíli will be able to walk in what, two days' time?"

"Aye, but we can move-"

"Kíli will be sufficiently healed in two days' time?" she repeated, and the healer nodded.

"Then you will leave then. Not before."

"I need to tell Grimbeorn." Caver insisted. "That's my job, Am."

"Yes, we will find him." Amalie nodded. "As _quickly_ as possible."

The boy's eyes widened and he nodded, racing into a tiny porch. The dwarves and Legolas heard a scuffling sound and then a growl and the sound of a door slamming closed. Outside, Frodo yelped, and they looked out of the window.

The youngest member of the company was staring eye to eye with a large shaggy dog who was sniffing his face with interest, and Amalie called out of the window. "Come inside _now, _Frodo. Caver – sit!"

Óin's eyes widened as the dog sat obediently, whining impatiently as it watched Frodo run inside.

"What-"

"You listen to me, Thorin Oakenshield." Amalie's usually amiable voice held a steely tone that rivalled the most serious tone of the dwarf she addressed. "I am going to go and find my brother and discuss the situation with him. You are to stay here until Grimbeorn speaks to you. You are to call everyone inside and you are _not _to leave the house. I will not be long."

"I understand." Thorin bowed to her, unusually accepting of being spoken to so brashly.

"Now, those of us who change will be doing so, so it is _very _important that the other's get inside. Who is outside right now?"

"Fíli, Kíli, Gimli, Bifur, Bofur and Ori." Frodo recalled quickly. "And Bilbo."

Amalie nodded. "They need to get in _now." _

"I thought Gandalf said that Beorn was the last of his kind…"

"Your wizard was mistaken." Amalie responded quickly to Dwalin's suspicion as she opened the door and headed outside. "My mother came from a small pack of skin-changers from the North who escaped the massacres that wracked their homeland. There are not many of us, but we are growing stronger."

"How dangerous are your people?" Thorin asked as he followed her.

"To the rest of the Beornings, not dangerous at all. To any orcs, more dangerous than an earthquake. To you…well it would be best if you stay out of the way."

Thorin nodded at the woman's dark tone and he and Dwalin strode outside, instantly yelling out to any of the others to call them back.

Fíli and Kíli were not far, and were the first to return. Ori came quickly behind, but Bifur, Bofur and Bilbo did not respond.

Thorin grinded his teeth together, displaying his anger and anxiety to Dwalin.

"They're out of earshot, the fools!" Dwalin spat.

Amalie called the dog over to her and waved Bilbo's stick in front of its nose. "Find, Caver. Good boy."

The dog flew away into the nearby trees with a joyful howl that was mangled by the stick now clenched between his teeth, and Dwalin frowned.

"How much does he understand, as a dog?"

"Less than he would in man-form, but more than a usual canine." Amalie explained, loosening the cords on the back of her dress. "Do not worry about him biting your friends; Caver is friendly enough in dog form."

Less than five minutes later the dog returned, Bilbo's stick still clamped between his jaws. He dropped it at Amalie's feet looking very pleased with himself, his tail wagging excitedly. Dwalin raised his eyebrows as Bofur, Bifur and a very irritated looking Bilbo emerged from the woods behind him.

"What is going on?" The hobbit huffed, but his irritation quickly turned to attentive fear. "What _is_ going on?"

"We need to get inside." Dwalin explained, holding the door open and staring at Amalie, who was flexing each of her muscles.

The three obeyed without hesitation and Amalie put a hand on Dwalin's arm. "Master Dwalin, listen to me. Bolt the door and let no one in until we return. Do not leave this place. When everyone has transformed it will not be safe."

Normally the warrior would have been downright offended by being treated like a child by a twenty-one year old woman, but there was a dangerous look in her eye that he dared not challenge and he nodded.

"Aye. We'll stay inside."

"The larder's full, help yourselves if you get hungry." She added in her usual happy tone, before slamming the door in his face.

"What's going on?" Bofur repeated Bilbo's question, but before anyone could answer a loud howl rang through the afternoon. Dwalin rushed to the window in time to see a huge wolf disappear into the woods, the dog at its heels.

Dwalin watched Thorin's grey face and he sighed. "We cannot stay here long."

"The orcs're coming?" Bofur guessed.

"Aye." Dwalin growled. "Ready your things but be aware that we're not leaving until our hosts return."

Thorin shot Dwalin a piercing look before nodding. "Do as he says."

The entire company had congregated in the dining room by now, and each member reacted differently to Dwalin's orders.

Dori went instantly to the bedroom to start to pack, while Nori reached for his knife.

Ori grabbed his book and a quill, passing Bilbo, who had closed his eyes.

Frodo put a hand on his Uncle's shoulder, watching as Legolas stared out of the window.

Kíli inspected the one crutch he was using with intense scrutiny, causing Fíli to pause in his stride to the door to wait for his brother.

Bofur glanced towards his mattock but first grabbed his hat from a nearby hat stand, and Bifur cursed quietly in Khuzdul.

Bombur headed to the pantry to pack a few supplies, followed by Óin who made a beeline for the herb-room that Grimbeorn had showed him on the second day.

Glóin thrust his new axe into its place on his belt and Gimli retrieved his father's old axe, now his own, from its place by his bedroll.

Thorin's face was screwed up as he thought deeply about their latest predicament, whereas Balin's face was surprisingly void of emotion as he moved over to converse with their leader.

Dwalin himself followed Dori and Gimli into the bedroom and started to sharpen his throwing knife, while Gandalf sat down at the table with his head in his hands.

The wizard remained in the same position long after the rest of the company had finished their various tasks and many had begun their second or third errand by the time he rose.

"The time has come for me to leave you." He announced mournfully to Thorin who sighed heavily. Dwalin also sighed, he had been expecting this.

"I cannot say I did not expect it. But you plan on leaving when the Lady Amalie told you not to?"

"She told _you _not to leave, she fears that you will be driven out before you are ready. But I must go now, there are things that must be dealt with."

"Such as?" Thorin asked, and Dwalin could tell from his tone that he was not expecting to be told.

"The Goblin King lives once more which is a problem in itself for one thing, but that is not the only reason for my departure – I have things that I need to do. And I could not come with you through Mirkwood anyway, Dwalin."

The warrior jumped, but nodded, realising that the wizard had seen right through him. "Aye, I know."

"You're leaving?" Frodo asked Gandalf from the doorway, setting down the water-skin he was holding.

"Yes, Frodo. I will meet you in Dale, if all goes to plan."

The young hobbit gave the wizard a wry smile. "Be careful Gandalf."

As Gandalf chuckled and put a hand on Frodo's shoulder, Dwalin was struck by how unconditionally the hobbit trusted the wizard, and he realised how much the wizard cared for the hobbit. It was strange to him, but then again Dwalin did not trust easily at all.

The wizard left not five minutes later, and the entire company busied themselves for the next few hours.

Finally, though, there was nothing to do, and one by one the company sat around the huge table in the dining room.

It was almost funny, in Dwalin's mind.

Like the helpless maiden who sits and waits for the men to return from battle, the great warrior Dwalin sat and waited for the return of a woman and a child.

_Well, _he thought, _this is certainly getting interesting. _

**I hope you enjoyed that chapter. It was very difficult to write, I can tell you! It was a little OC heavy for my tastes but the bits about Alfr and Amalie were both very important to later plot points. **

**I'll ask you a little question if you don't mind, I have a BIG preference between Alfr and Amalie, who do you prefer or are they both a bit schemer? **

**Thanks for reading, please review :)**


	16. Chapter 16: Home

**Hola! Thanks for my reviews last chapter, love you all :P **

**Anyways, hopefully this is good enough for you, it was fun to write but took me a little while. I got some rather irritating AS results today so finishing this off was a great pick me up :)**

**Sorry for any mistakes, I think I've proof read it but I may have missed stuff again :P**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Sixteen # Home #**

_"May be surrounded by  
A million people I  
Still feel all alone  
I just wanna go home  
Oh, I miss you, you know…_

_Let me go home  
I'm just too far from where you are  
I wanna come home." Westlife, Home  
_  
Grimbeorn and Amalie did not return until early the following morning. They both looked, in Bilbo's humble opinion, like they had been dragged through a bush backwards.

Amalie's long hair had suffered in particular, looking almost as knotted as Radagast's, with twice as many twigs and leaves entwined in the fallen curls. Instead of their usual garments, both siblings were wrapped in little more than cloaks, so the company waited a few minutes more for news to allow their hosts to don some more appropriate clothing.

When they came back their faces were equally grim, heightening their resemblance to both each other and their father.

"Caver was right." Grimbeorn began with a heavy sigh. "The orc pack that hounded you until Rivendell is less than four days from here."

"We do not want to bring harm to your people or your land." Thorin insisted immediately. "If our leaving could draw them away, I would have us leave…as soon as possible."

"I am well aware of that, but you have more chance of outrunning them if you wait but two days and leave with your full strength. They will not follow you through Mirkwood, I am sure, and as you know the distance from here to there is not great."

"The boy said earlier that they were threatening your people-"

Grimbeorn snorted. "Ha! Let them. We have been threatening _them_ since before we _were_ a people. If they think that they can pass through our land without meeting resistance they are poorly mistaken. We are not afraid of them."

Thorin was quick to retort. "Neither were the elves of Rivendell and their kin were slaughtered not five miles from their borders because they sheltered us."

Bilbo noticed Legolas' slight wince, and he suspected that Amalie had too.

She swallowed but her face was set. "This is _our_ land. We know how to fight here and we also know how to disappear, if need be. Either way, they will not reach here before four days have passed, and if you leave the day after tomorrow you would still have a two day head start."

"Thank you." Thorin nodded, and Bilbo thought that he could see a flicker of relief pass across their leader's face.

_Of course, _the hobbit thought, _Óin won't be happy to let Kíli walk until the day after tomorrow. _

Grimbeorn nodded, looking as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he sank back down into his chair. Bilbo realised that, much like his sister, Grimbeorn did not want the dwarves to leave before they were ready. The easy smile that had graced his face when Bilbo and the others had first met him was gone, and in its place was the grim determination of one with the responsibility to protect an entire people.

"We will not have the privacy you have enjoyed for the past few days, unfortunately, as I will need to make plans with my kinsmen." Grimbeorn warned the dwarves.

"Of course." Thorin bowed his head. "Anything that we can do to help you, we will."

Amalie glanced at her brother before excusing herself to wash properly. Slowly, the others filed out to occupy themselves with tasks of varying practicality, but Bilbo lingered at the table.

"How many of you are there?" he asked Grimbeorn, who sat back in his chair again.

"Oh, around five hundred or so, I would guess. Our lands stretch from the base of the Misty Mountains to the borders of Mirkwood, and we are not as well organised as the kingdoms of men or dwarves, so I do not know for sure."

"The boy…" Bilbo's face pulled into a grimace as he tried to remember the boy's name.

"Caver?"

"Yes… How old is he?" Bilbo asked slowly.

"Twelve summers." Grimbeorn replied, leaning forward a little.

"My…isn't he a little young to be delivering messages like that?" Bilbo frowned, wondering if the child was charged with such dark messages often.

Grimbeorn shook his head. "He is not a messenger, as such. He would have been the closest person to Narwyn when _she _was on the way here." Upon seeing Bilbo's confusion he elaborated. "I said we are not as well organised as the established kingdoms of this world, but I did not say we completely lacked organisation. If we did not have a way of sending messages to each other, the Beornings would fall back into ruin – we would be no more than a disunited group of woodsmen, recluses and, in some cases, savages. My father created a simple enough system – messages are passed along by watchmen and woman, and anyone they charge to run for them. Narwyn gave the message to Caver – she _is _a watchwoman, but Caver was merely passing by when she had been running for miles."

"So he had more energy. But he was passing by _alone_?" Bilbo's eyebrow rose.

"Yes." Grimbeorn nodded. "Caver's parents live up in the north most region of our land, but he prefers to linger around Carrock and around her – he was very close to my father, he could listen to his stories for hours... It is safe enough for him; he knows the woods as well as the rest of us, and spends many a day running around with my sister. She has a soft spot for him – it makes her feel useful, acting as his guardian, even if he doesn't need one."

"I see…" Bilbo mused.

"Bilbo, have you seen my pipe?" Frodo asked, wandering into the room with a confused look on his face.

"Which one?" Bilbo asked absently. It always amused him that while his nephew rarely smoked, he loved collecting pipes.

"The only one I brought with me," Frodo's mouth twitched into a little smile. "The one Merry gave me for my thirtieth birthday."

"No, I haven't my boy. I'm sorry."

Frodo sighed heavily, but gave the two a small smile. "Thank you anyway. And I'm sorry if I interrupted."

"Not at all." Grimbeorn smiled.

Bilbo pondered Grimbeorn's brief description of Caver's life for as Frodo left the room. Twelve years old. That was the age Frodo had been when he had been orphaned. Twelve year old Frodo would have never been allowed to run around the woods alone, and even though hobbits aged differently, Bilbo could not help but think that Caver was too young to be running alone. Then again, Frodo and Merry had taken Pippin into the woods without an adult when _he _was not even ten years old, and it really was not his business how other people raised their children.

"Our way of life, especially outside this house, is strange to most people who pass through here, Master Bilbo." Grimbeorn smiled, correctly guessing Bilbo's train of thought. "Our children, and many of our adults, run around the forest like animals to their hearts' content. But then again I hear that you once said it is not bad thing to celebrate a simple life?"

"That is true, I have said that." Bilbo nodded. "I suppose it is a different sort of simple – indeed I have relatives that would call it primal-" Grimbeorn laughed "-but it seems a good life, regardless."

"Thank you." Grimbeorn beamed, bowing his head.

The two spoke for a long while after that, comparing the lifestyles of the hobbits and the Beornings. Grimbeorn was surprised to hear that hobbits did not swim, and Bilbo was stunned to find out that the Beornings were just as enthusiastic about birthdays and parties as the hobbits of Hobbiton.

Just as they got onto the interesting topic of pipe weed, there was a loud but somewhat mangled bark, followed by a sudden torrent of whining behind the door. The unmistakable sound of claws scratching wood followed, and Grimbeorn frowned, moving to the door. When he opened it, a familiar young dog tumbled in, his paws raised from scratching at the door.

Caver scrambled into a sitting position, his tail wagging excitedly. Frodo's pipe was held gently between his teeth, and pride was easily visible in his wide brown eyes.

"Ah, look what you found. Good boy." Grimbeorn remarked with a grin, holding out his palm. To his surprise, the dog backed away, its tail quickening. The skin changer frowned, before sighing. "Alright. Go, do whatever it is you wanted to do."

With a happy sniff, the dog bounded towards the room the dwarves had slept in, and Grimbeorn shook his head.

"Strange boy."

"You said last night that he would understand more than a dog would, but less than he normally would…?"

Grimbeorn nodded. "It's complicated, but that's about right. When in animal-form, a skin-changer's animalistic senses and instincts are greatly heightened, whereas their conscious mind is a little repressed. With children this is even more prominent for survival reasons – the more young and therefore vulnerable the child, the more control instinct has over their body in animal-form. It helps to keep the young ones staying with their family and away from dangerous situations. Infants are all but uncontrollable, and it is still hard for even Amalie to control herself when she is in the skin of the wolf. For Caver…well he can understand simple words but he understands commands better, like a dog you would train as a companion."

"I see. That makes sense." Bilbo agreed. "Is it difficult for you? Or is that a rude question because if it is I'm sorry."

Grimbeorn laughed again. "No, no, it's not rude. And it can be sometimes. When I feel threatened or angry or, well any passionate emotion at all, really, it gets much harder to control the bear."

"So you take after your father?"

"Yes. Amalie takes after our mother." Grimbeorn nodded.

"I see."

Frodo trailed into the room as Bilbo spoke, his pipe tucked safely in his pocket and the young dog bounding happily along by his side.

"Is this the boy that was here yesterday?" Frodo asked curiously as Caver yelped happily, bumping Frodo's hand with his nose.

"Yes, that would be Caver." Grimbeorn remarked with a hint of surprise. "It seems he really likes you."

"Why?" Bilbo asked curiously.

Frodo gave Bilbo a wounded look, but it was obvious to all that he was joking as he ruffled the dog's ears a little timidly.

Caver stretched his neck up, pushing his head further into Frodo's palm before sniffing his pockets curiously.

Amalie walked into the room which caught the dog's attention for a moment, but he returned to snuffling around in Frodo's pockets.

She let out a low whistle. "I'm offended, Caver."

The dog glanced over at her with a sheepish expression, before wagging his tale slowly and looking up at Frodo again.

"Well that's something I never expected to see." Grimbeorn's tone was instantly filled with glee. "Someone that Caver likes enough to ignore Amalie…"

"Oh, do be quiet, Grim." Amalie complained, though her eyes sparkled. "Caver can be friends with whoever he wants."

Caver barked in what sounded like agreement, wagging his tail excessively. Frodo stroked the back of the dog's head, a strange look on his face.

"What is he doing here?" Frodo asked curiously.

"I have no idea. Caver?"

The dog just looked at him with big eyes and leant against Frodo, his shoulder leaning on the hobbit's.

"Bored?" Grimbeorn tried.

Caver blinked lazily, bowing his head a little.

"And something else…" Amalie mused. "Lonely?"

The young dog moved his head from side to side, looking down at the floor with an expression that looked to Bilbo suspiciously like shame.

Amalie's smile waned. "Scared?"

Caver moved his head up and down and then looked up at Frodo, though he did not need to look up far, leaning against him again even more.

"It will be okay, Caver." She promised. "Everything will be fine."

The dog snorted, as if he was laughing, and just pushed his head up against Frodo again.

Automatically Frodo's hand moved back to stroke the back of the dog's neck comfortingly and Caver let out a small whine.

For the rest of the day, the youngest member of the company was shadowed by the wolfhound look-a-like, and Frodo did not complain.

No one questioned why the young boy why so drawn to Frodo, not even the boy or the hobbit themselves.

Perhaps they should have questioned it. They may have figured it out much sooner, what was happening to Frodo Baggins.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

It was not five minutes later when Bilbo realised something, the same moment Nori walked into the room.

"Nori?"

"Mmh?" the spiky haired dwarf looked up absently.

"We've overlooked something. That message of yours never got to Ered Luin."

"I know tha…" Nori trailed off as he understood what Bilbo had. "They might not know it was even on the way."

"And your kin at Erebor can't know that their message was never delivered." Bilbo added.

"We can get messages to Erebor and Ered Luin in days if you wish." Grimbeorn offered.

"How?" Nori scoffed.

"The birds." Grimbeorn repeated simply. "You write up your messages and seal your scrolls and our birds will get it to its destination in time."

After consulting with Thorin, that was exactly what they did. Nori wrote a short explanation of the fates of Alfr and Vidar and the condition of the letter and wrapped it around the scroll, before covering the scroll in water-proof leather and handing it to Grimbeorn. He also wrote to Dain in Erebor to inform him that the dwarves who had left Erebor months before had discovered the bodies of Alfr and Vidar and that their message had not been received.

Grimbeorn never distinguished what he meant by 'the birds', and for months the company did not know whether he spoke of the eagles, skin-changers, or normal birds, but the messages were sent and received all the same.

Legolas did not know whether he dreaded or welcomed the idea of leaving the skin-changers' residence.

Grimbeorn and Amalie were both good company, and he enjoyed looking up at someone for a change as opposed to looking down. The house itself was incredible, full of carvings and natural jewels that the dwarves could not even begin to appreciate fully. The food, water and comforts were constant and the place secure.

But his home was so close that Legolas could feel it in his bones.

Mirkwood, or Greenwood the Great as it would always be in his heart, was calling to him, and he wanted to go _home – _he had not seen a single tree from his home for almost two years.

At the same time, a very small part of him never wanted to look upon the forest again. He and Haradion had grown up among the trees and rocks of the forest, and he knew that the moment he entered the woods, the glowering coals of grief already burning in his chest would flare up into an inferno and the pain of losing his almost brother all would be renewed.

Did the elves of Mirkwood know of their loss? Surely Elrond would have already sent word to Thranduil. But what had he told the Elvenking of Thorin's company, and Legolas' accompaniment.

Gandalf had insisted that they travel through Thranduil's halls, and the last time Legolas had been this reluctant to see his father he had been when he was but a child and had accidently shot an arrow into the antlers of his father's elk.

"How are you holding up, laddie?" Gimli asked suddenly, breaking Legolas out of his reverie.

"I am fine, Gimli." Legolas smiled stiffly, and the dwarf laughed heartily. The only other dwarves in the general vicinity were Kíli and Fíli, who were clearly up to something and therefore definitely not listening.

"You're not fine, Legolas."

"No, I am not. I fear my father's reaction to the company's return and to my being a part of it." Legolas admitted, staring out of the window to the trees beyond. "I also fear returning without…"

"Your brother." Gimli prompted knowingly.

"Yes." Legolas did not bother correcting his friend and he sighed.

"Nori's thinking the same thing, you know. You two have that in common at least."

"How fortunate." Legolas nodded, turning away from the window, before turning to Gimli. "Forgive me. I know you were only trying to cheer me up."

Gimli smiled. "There's naught to forgive. But if you can help at all, I'd appreciate it if you could keep us out of jail this time."

It was the elf's turn to laugh. "I can try, but I will make no promises on my father's account."

The next two days passed uneventfully, save a couple of well-timed pranks from Kíli and Fíli that had the entire company roaring – though some roared in anger and the others in laughter.

When it was time to leave, they all had heavy hearts.

"Thank you, for everything." Thorin said sincerely, shaking Grimbeorn's hand. "If there is _ever _anything I can do for you…"

"I will let you know." Grimbeorn promised. "Come back and visit any time it pleases you, any of you are welcome to return."

"Thank you." The company chorused like a children's choir.

Amalie stood next to Caver, who had remained in dog form for the rest of their stay. Though the woman was very upset at the prospect of her new friends – and entertainment – leaving, they could have never guessed if it were not for the pout that pushed out her bottom lip.

"I hope you do come soon. Or invite us to come and see you."

"Amalie!" Grimbeorn groaned, and the company laughed.

"We will return if we can." Kíli gestured enthusiastically to himself and his brother from his own two feet.

The dog sprang up from his position next to Amalie to nudge Frodo's shoulder enthusiastically.

"I think I'll probably be back…" the young hobbit smiled, and everyone laughed as the dog barked happily.

"I hope with all my heart that we have not brought harm to your people." Thorin insisted again.

"I appreciate the sentiment." Grimbeorn nodded. "But know that even if you had avoided our home entirely, the orcs would be greeted with nothing short of a battle. You need not feel guilty about bring danger to us."

"Thank you." Thorin repeated, a genuine smile sitting across his cheeks as he observed his company.

Leaving the skin-changers was not like leaving Rivendell. The company trudged away with renewed energy but heavy hearts.

Legolas was not convinced that the Beornings could do very much at all about the orcs, and he feared that many of them would get hurt trying.

"Legolas, will you lead the way?" Thorin asked only a little reluctantly. "You know these paths the best, I'd wager."

The elf nodded, moving wordlessly to the front of the company. It did not take them very long at all to reach Mirkwood – and the elf was the only one who did not hesitate at the forests' foreboding borders.

Legolas took one step into the forest and instantly felt like he was home. He turned and looked at the frozen company, not knowing whether he should say anything or not.

Frodo was the first to follow him, Gimli and Bilbo on his heels. Kíli took a deep breath and Fíli was by his side when they walked into the forest. As Bofur swung his mattock over his shoulder and followed, Legolas smiled and started to lead the way along the path.

"So elf," Bofur announced his presence with his cheerful greeting. He always addressed Legolas as 'elf', but for both parties it had changed from a symbol of distrust to a friendly term. "We're not going to starve half to death this time are we?"

"No." Legolas smiled at the dwarf. "We are not. It is not hard to find food in Mirkwood if you know where to look."

Bofur snorted and Legolas laughed. He liked the miner turned toymaker a lot, especially now that he knew him. In Rivendell, the dwarf's particular sense of humour and large, clumsy looking hands had originally convinced Legolas that Bofur was more comfortable – or well suited – to the profession of a miner. However that opinion had changed the day before they left.

_Nimmeth took the news of Legolas' impending departure as well as could be expected in the circumstances. Yes, she had cried and begged him not to go, but after he had quietly explained that he had to as a last favour to her Ada she had relented and collapsed into his arms. _

_He went about the remainder of the day with the little girl clinging from his neck, until he was forced to leave her for a moment to retrieve his weapons from the arms room – the one place in Rivendell where children were strictly forbidden under any circumstances. _

_He set her down outside and told her to wait and she cried, but when he came back he was surprised to see her sniffling a little and nodding at something Bofur was saying. _

_The dwarf was crouching down to her height, though he did not have to crouch far, and he was showing her something. _

_"…and if you pull this here lever it will breathe fire, see?" _

_Nimmeth nodded, curiosity making an appearance on her face for the first time since her parents' deaths. _

_"Here, you try…" _

_Legolas watched from the shadows as Bofur passed her a little wooden dragon. The intricacy of the carving was astounding, and when Nimmeth gently pulled the dragon's tale the mouth opened and red painted 'flames' spurted from between the jaws. _

_Bofur smiled as Nimmeth smiled. "You can keep it if you like." _

_"Really?" she gasped softly, before giving the dwarf a shy smile. "Thank you." _

_Legolas smiled a little at her smile, but before he could move from his hiding place the toymaker spoke again. _

_"There's something else, Miss Nimmeth." Bofur pulled out a little package. "Here, open it." _

_Nimmeth slowly pulled away the brown paper to reveal a little doll. _

_She turned her big eyes to Bofur and he looked at her seriously. "I can't take her with me. Will you look after her from now on?" _

_Nimmeth nodded vigorously, holding the doll tightly against her chest for a moment before pausing and gently cradling it in her arms instead. _

_"Thank you." She repeated in the same fragile voice. "What's her name?" _

_Bofur clearly had not named the doll, Legolas could tell by the slight fall in his expression, but the toymaker did not miss a beat. "Her name is Ona." _

_"That's a very dwarfish name." She whispered automatically, before glancing at Bofur a little fearfully and he laughed softly. _

_"Well I am a dwarf, Miss Nimmeth. Do you want to change her name?" _

_"No, she might not like it if I do..." Nimmeth said seriously, stroking the blonde yarn forming the doll's hair. "Where's her family?"_

_"Uh well, they left her a long time ago. They didn't want to, no, they didn't want to, but they had to. They didn't have a choice." Bofur chose his words carefully. _

_"Like my Ada and Nana?" _

_"Yes..." Bofur murmured softly. _

_"Oh..." Nimmeth's face puckered and she looked at Bofur. "I'll look after her Master Dwarf." _

_"Thank you, lassie. And you can call me Bofur." _

_She giggled shyly at Bofur's words, before her face fell back into sorrow. "Will you ever come back, Master Bofur Dwarf?" _

_"I don't know." Bofur replied honestly. "Maybe one day." _

_"I hope you do come back."_

_ Legolas was shocked by the little girl's sincerity. Haradion had disliked dwarves just as much as Legolas had when he left Mirkwood, yet his daughter displayed no prejudice towards Bofur. _

_"You do?" Bofur grinned. _

_"Mm hm." She hummed, rocking the doll gently. "Ada said never trust a dwarf but you're a nice dwarf and I think your friends are nice too…They have to be or Legolas wouldn't be going with you."_

_ "Thank you, little lady." Bofur smiled, and she giggled a broken little giggle, eyeing Bofur's hat. He took it off and showed it to her. "What do you think of my hat?" _

_"Soft..." She murmured, stroking the fabric, and Bofur smiled again. _

_"It is. This is my favourite hat in the world. Do you want to try it on?" _

_The girl nodded eagerly and Bofur placed the large hat over her head. _

_Legolas chose that moment to emerge from the shadows. Nimmeth gave him a tiny smile and Bofur nodded, though a guarded look misted his eyes. _

I trust you enough_, the look said, _but not completely, yet_. _

_When they had been walking for a few days, Legolas had asked Bofur about the exchange. _

_"I've seen far too many grieving orphans in my time." The toymaker had replied more cryptically than usual. "And in my line of trade my job has been to help any way I can. Elf or no, that little girl was a child, and no dwarf worth his beard would ignore a crying child." _

_"Thank you." Legolas smiled at Bofur. "I think you really helped her." "I hope so..." _

The memory of that conversation made Legolas wonder. "Do you have any children of your own, Bofur?"

"Me? No..." The dwarf replied thoughtfully, shaking his head. "I would've loved to have a family but I suppose I never found the right woman."

Legolas nodded knowingly and continued to lead into the familiar forest.

"Are those spiders still here?" Bofur asked with sudden apprehension.

Legolas scowled. "I hope not, but if they are we should not see them. We will not be straying far from the path."

"Good." Bofur huffed. "I don't fancy being hung from a tree like a fly. Ever again."

Legolas' lead was barely needed for the first few days, with the path being straight enough. The supplies they had been given by Grimbeorn and Amalie seemed to be holding up, and Legolas assured them they would not run short of food again.

Reaching the river that Bombur had fallen into last time was very amusing for the elf when he realised that they had taken a little boat across.

"Well how do _you_ cross the river?" Thorin scowled, and Legolas grinned.

He moved over to a large rock and lifted it up, revealing a ladder made from rope and pieces of wood. He threw it deftly across the river and then closed his eyes murmuring quietly to himself in quiet Sindarin. Then he stepped into the river.

"What are you doing?" Thorin asked quickly. "Do you expect us to carry you?"

The freezing water swirled around his waist but the elf's eyes remained closed until he walked out of the other side, calmly taking the end of the ladder and securing it to a tree.

The stunned faces of the dwarves and hobbits almost had him laughing aloud, but also reminded him that his companions were not elves, and therefore may find it a little difficult to cross over, so he took a length of rope and tied it further up above the tree before skipping back along the ladder to tie it to the other side for the other's to hold onto as they crossed.

"Well…" Thorin cleared his throat, reddening considerably.

"After you." Legolas offered, smiling a little. "I should be last to cross, to put the bridge back."

When even Bombur crossed without incident, Legolas led them further and further into the woods, until they were less than a day away from Thranduil's halls.

The company were laughing at when it happened.

Arrows embedded themselves in the ground beneath their feet and calls of warning had Legolas' hands raised calmly in the air.

Thorin growled. "What is-"

"Shh." Legolas ordered sharply.

Something fell from the tree above him and an arrow was directed into his face.

He froze.

Then he smiled.

"Hello Tauriel."

**This chapter may be a little dull but there is LOTS of foreshadowing if you look in the right places, I would love to hear your theories ;)**

**Also, I figured if Arwen can have a little influence over the river in her home, Legolas can have a little control over the river in his :) **

**The scene with Nimmeth and Bofur was actually planned before Nimmeth was even named, and was actually her original purpose in the story – it's funny I got to it eleven chapters later. **

**Thanks for reading, please leave a comment telling me what you think :) **


	17. Chapter 17: Disturbia

**'ello, 'ello, 'ello! Thank you all for your reviews, I LOVE hearing your theories – some of them are really cool! Anyways, on with the chapter! **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Seventeen # Disturbia #**

_"It's a thief in the night  
To come and grab you  
It can creep up inside you  
And consume you  
A disease of the mind  
It can control you  
It's too close for comfort_

Your mind is in disturbia  
It's like the darkness is the light  
Disturbia  
Am I scaring you tonight?  
Disturbia  
Ain't used to what you like  
Disturbia  
Disturbia" Rihanna, Disturbia 

Tauriel blinked. "Legolas?"

"Kindly lower your bow, Tauriel, we pose no threat." Legolas' voice rang with authority, and Tauriel could barely believe her eyes.

She lowered her bow, the other archers copying, and she glanced behind Legolas at the gathered company. "It was rumoured that the Blessing of the Ancients had descended upon the earth again, but I didn't believe it…Legolas?"

"Yes?" the prince replied as if he did not know what her question was. Resisting the urge to shake her friend by the shoulders, Tauriel frowned and started to speak in fluent Quenya.

_"That is Thorin Oakenshield. Are you travelling with him?" _

_"_Since Rivendell."Legolas nodded, replying in the common tongue.

Tauriel was speechless. Legolas may not have witnessed the dwarves' visit to Mirkwood sixty years ago but _she _had, and it still stung a little that they had escaped on her watch. She knew that Thranduil experienced that sentiment a thousand times over. The extra halfling caught her attention quickly and she narrowed her eyes.

"Frodo Baggins, I presume?"

"As usual you are correct." Legolas smiled a little fondly at Frodo, who shuffled uncomfortably. "We are on our way to see my father."

"That sounds like an amazing idea." Tauriel wanted to roll her eyes, but the sarcasm was recognisable enough without it.

"He will listen to me." Legolas insisted and Tauriel sighed.

"On your head be it." She swore, before whirling around to compose her thoughts as they marched towards the hall. Was she to present the group as prisoners or guests?

This was not what she had expected to have to deal with when she woke that morning.

"My Lord…" she announced as she entered the Throne Room almost two hours later. "Your son has returned, with…guests…"

Thranduil raised his head curiously but his eyes darkened when the dwarves entered the room behind Legolas, who bowed to his father.

"Guests?" was Thranduil's first word of welcome to his son.

"My Lord, this-"

Thranduil cut off his son with a wave of his hand. "I know exactly who they are, including Frodo Baggins, the Ring Bearer and Gimli, son of Glóin. So _this_ is who the Ancients deemed worthy…"

Tauriel watched the once King-Under-The-Mountain bristle with the implied insult, but Legolas replied quickly.

"I have become part of their company."

Tauriel's eyes widened at the same time as Thranduil's, and a single thought fluttering into her mind. _Oh. _

"What?" the Elvenking whispered.

"Taking the advice of Lord Elrond and Mithrandir, I joined this company when Thorin offered me a place."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed at Thorin Oakenshield. "And why would you offer _my _son a place on your precious journey?"

"I took the advice of those you deem wise." The dwarf replied, his head held high.

"Oh really?" Thranduil sat back in his throne, lacing his fingers together and Tauriel wished that she could read minds. Unbeknownst to her, Thranduil was thinking along the same lines.

What on this good earth could have possessed his son to join a troop of dwarves – following Thorin Oakenshield of all people?

News had already reached him of his son's friendship with Gimli son of Glóin and though it did not sit well with him at all, he had grudgingly accepted that it was probably for the best, especially as Lady Galadriel had named him Lockbearer and Elf Friend. That did not mean, however, that he accepted the Prince of Mirkwood journeying with Thorin Oakenshield.

Mithrandir had always been a little too fond of dwarves, in Thranduil's not-so-humble opinion, but Thorin was unfortunately right – Thranduil often took the advice of Lord Elrond and – when he could find the blasted wizard – Mithrandir.

"When did you join this…company?" he asked his son, who had the decency to show a little guilt in his expression.

"In Rivendell, my Lord."

Thranduil nodded thoughtfully, ignoring the sting of betrayal that accompanied the knowledge that his son had travelled for so long with this particular band of dwarves without his knowledge. "Lord Elrond told me that Haradion died near Rivendell, not two months ago…"

Legolas' eyes fell to the floor and he took a deep breath. "We were in Rivendell when it happened. The orc pack was tracking this company, we know not who leads them, even now."

So the orcs that had slaughtered Haradion and Meldë had been tracking Thorin Oakenshield. Had his son joined the dwarves for revenge? Or had his mind already been made?

"And yet Lord Elrond did not deem any such information worthy of my knowledge…" he fixed his son in an unusually icy glare. "Four of my people were murdered by orcs tracking this company – a company who have already scorned me - and now my son appears with them on my doorstep. Tell me, Legolas, what would you have me do? Open my halls to Thorin Oakenshield – let him take my food and wine unchecked?"

Legolas winced slightly. "No, my Lord. We need not _stay_ here at all – but we had to pass through."

Thranduil almost winced himself. '_We need not _stay_ here at all…'_

Though he could never admit it, he had been worried, very worried, for the entirety of Legolas' absence. He had known the dangers his son was facing, the battles he was fighting and the company he was keeping, and every day he had feared receiving the news that Legolas had fallen. To hear his son speak so flippantly of leaving so soon cut his heart, especially when coupled with the words '_had to pass through.'_

_'Had to…' _yes, the dwarves had no choice but to pass through Mirkwood with the tight laws of the Blessing, but Thranduil would not have expected his son to use those words when talking about his own home. He '_had to' _come home – but it was not his choice.

Torn between profound hatred of the dwarf who had escaped his dungeons and destroyed Lake Town by his insatiable greed and a deep love and trust of his son, Thranduil sighed.

Sensing his father's moment of weakness, Legolas added gently in Quenya. _"Father, to detain them here now would be to sentence them to death. And _none _of them deserve that." _

_"You feel you know them well?" _he asked coldly.

_"I know them well enough." _Legolas repeated, his once amiable voice chilled identically to his father's.

Thranduil sighed again, before turning his piercing gaze back to Oakenshield. "The last time you left my halls you destroyed a city."

"That was never my intent." The dwarf replied fiercely, but Thranduil cut him off.

"And then you refused to pay the people who-"

"I made mistakes, grave mistakes, fuelled by gold lust and dragon sickness." Thorin took a step forward, his voice ringing with majesty. "I take full responsibility for my errors and for the damage they caused, and I aim to make amends any way I can. I do not intend to repeat those mistakes again."

"You expect to take back your throne." Thranduil sighed lazily. Surely that was the only way the dwarf expected to repay the damages he had caused – with the wealth of a king.

"No." Thorin's answer shocked the Elvenking. "My cousin has ruled Erebor well by my people's accounts, and I would not insult him so. I mean to council with him and come to an agreement of sorts, perhaps take a minor position on his council if I may."

"Dain's rule is weakening as his health fails." Thranduil said dismissively. "I doubt it is Dain that you will council with."

"What do you mean?" Thorin frowned, and Thranduil glanced over the company.

"You have not heard? Things do not go well in Erebor at present…"

"Tell me what you mean." Thorin said quickly, before checking himself and aging through gritted teeth. "Please."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow but answered the dwarf's request. "News has reached Mirkwood that a shadow has descended upon the mountain from within – but none outside the mountain know what form the shadow has taken, the dwarves of Erebor have, as of yet, trusted no one with their dark secret. Few have entered or left Erebor in the last two months. The mountain has become Lonely indeed."

The faces of the dwarves darkened in unison, and Thranduil was almost unnerved. He leant back into his chair, pondering his options.

"Tauriel, take our guests…" - the word rolled strangely off his tongue – "to the next hall."

"My lord-" Legolas protested, but Thranduil held up a hand.

"Give them a little food and bid them sit a while until I make up my mind, but do _not_ let them leave." He glared icily at the woman, who bowed curtly, turning to the company.

"Follow me."

Legolas sighed but nodded at Thorin, who nodded back and followed Tauriel out of the room.

"Leave us." Thranduil waved a hand at the remaining servants and guards who quickly obeyed. Finally, he was left alone with his son, and for a while he said nothing. He did not know what to say, so eventually he decided to state the obvious. "You are home."

"Yes." Legolas' head was still bowed, and Thranduil stood up descending from his throne to stand in front of his son.

"You made me proud."

Legolas looked up, surprise in his eyes, and Thranduil smiled.

"I have heard of the part you played in the war and I am proud of you." He repeated, smiling fondly at his son, who smiled back. "And I am sorry, very sorry, about what happened to Haradion."

Legolas' face crumpled. "I…"

Thranduil waited as Legolas closed his eyes.

"I was half a mile away when it happened. I felt…I felt that there was something wrong but I ignored my instincts and half an hour later Haradion and Meldë…"

Not for the first time, Thranduil wished that he was not a king so he could express his emotions freely. Instead, he put a hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"There was nothing that you could have done, I am sure."

"I am not." Legolas protested, his eyes flashing. "If I had listened to my gut…"

"What is done is done. What are you going to do now?"

Legolas fixed his father in a determined stare. "I am going to do all I can for the company and hopefully get them to Erebor unscathed. Then I plan to journey back to Rivendell for Nimmeth."

Thranduil sighed heavily. "That plan sounds…reasonable. I do not trust Thorin Oakenshield but I will not hinder your journey. I expect the dwarves to be gone before dusk tomorrow."

Legolas bowed. "Thank you, Ada."

Thranduil smiled wryly, shocked when Legolas turned and hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace as majestically as he could, before nodding at his son and returning to his throne.

"Legolas?"

"Yes, Ada?" Legolas asked as he left the room.

"It is good to see you."

_~ The Hobbit ~ _

Bilbo was certain that he would have a heart attack before the sun rose.

Legolas, after receiving Thorin's approval, left the company for the night to be with his friends and relations, which meant that the company's only elf was absent, leaving Bilbo with a room full of angry, distrustful dwarves on their 'best behaviour'.

Which meant that Glóin, Dwalin and Thorin were huddled in a far corner – huddling very regally but still huddling – muttering darkly and sending glares and scowls towards the door and towards their guard, Tauriel.

Dori, Óin and Balin were musing over something in the corner, but their musings seemed very much centred around stories of elves making fools of themselves, the little that Bilbo heard. At least he sincerely hoped that they were stories and not plots, he could not really be sure.

Gimli's best behaviour was a little less hostile and for the most part he sat silently with his pipe in the corner, though Bilbo was well aware that it was his loyalty to Legolas alone that stopped him from huddling in the corner with his father, Dwalin and Thorin.

At first it appeared that Nori was writing on a little scrap piece of paper that Bilbo assumed he had obtained from his younger brother, but the hobbit thought it was a little strange that Nori would openly muse on Alfr's message when surrounded by elves. It all made sense when he overheard Ori quietly informing Frodo that his brother was actually writing Khuzdul swear words and curses onto the floor.

Ori himself _was _writing in his book, and Bilbo was eternally grateful for the ever peaceful dwarf, though every so often he sent Tauriel a dirty scowl for good measure.

Bifur looked calm enough in the presence of all the elves, but the tension riddling his body was clear from the way that he slowly sharpened every single weapon in his possession, including his whittling knife. Bofur _was _whittling, though Bilbo was not yet sure what he was working on, but his low whistling was strangely ominous as he glared at the elves that passed.

Bombur was not eating, which immediately struck Bilbo as strange, until he noticed that the company's cook was actually working with the youngest two heirs of Durin to steal food from the adjoining pantry.

Kíli and Fíli had been stealing food for the better part of two hours, if the size of Bombur's once empty bag was anything to go by.

"I hope you're planning on returning that."

Fíli and Kíli jumped and whirled around to see Bilbo standing behind them, arms folded and anger etched into his face.

"Ah, Bilbo…" Kíli choked.

As usual it was Fíli who found the words first. "We are running low on supplies, we don't have a-"

"Oh for goodness sakes. Frodo, come here!"

Startled out of the book he was reading, Frodo walked over to his seething cousin, very confused. "What's going on?"

"Do you think you could take this back to the pantry without being noticed?" Bilbo asked, already knowing the answer.

"Of course..." To Bilbo's surprise, Frodo's face suddenly went pink, and Kíli sniggered.

"He knows the way well enough…"

Bilbo's eyes narrowed at Thorin's youngest nephew who quickly donned a straight face. "What do you mean?"

Kíli pursed his lips and Fíli rolled his eyes, but neither dwarf spoke.

"Frodo…"

Frodo gave a weak attempt at an innocent smile and Bilbo groaned.

"You too?"

"I'm sorry, Bilbo." Frodo's eyes fell to the ground as if he were a tween again.

"At least half of it, I was very impressed!" Kíli blurted out.

"What is going on over here?"

Bilbo himself jumped as Thorin appeared behind him, but the angry hobbit quickly regained his composure. "Will you _please _instruct your nephews and my cousin that you should never steal from your hos…oh for goodness sake, please tell me you didn't?"

Thorin dropped the apple he had been innocently inspecting in shock. "What on earth do you mean?"

It was all depressingly clear to Bilbo know that he was not only outnumbered, but he had been defeated before he knew that this little battle had even begun. Bombur had hidden the three youngest company members as they slipped out of a little side corridor and had hidden their spoils in his bag.

Ori had glared at Tauriel whenever she was sufficiently distracted to signify that whoever was leaving or entering the hall could do so unseen, Óin, Balin and Dori's conversation was providing several of the distractions.

Bifur and Bofur were both keeping watch on the open corridors that surrounded the hall, warning the thieves with ominous songs and the swapping of knives when there were elves passing, and arguably worst of all, Thorin had devised the entire scheme.

"Right…" Bilbo took a deep breath. "That's it."

"What do you mean, Master Baggins?" Thorin asked in a clear warning tone.

"Frodo, you go and put these back. All of them, right now." Bilbo plucked the bag from its place next to Bombur and shoved it into Frodo's arms. "Now…"

"Wait." Thorin ordered, and Frodo winced.

"I thought better of you, Thorin." Bilbo scorned. "Stealing from those who provided you shelter."

Thorin's face immediately turned the colour of a tomato and everyone in the room looked about to run for cover. "This is not normal circumstances-"

"No, it isn't, which makes this all ten times worse! If I didn't know better, I could think that you were no more than thieves. I _know _you have more honour than that."

Thorin glowered at the burglar for a moment, before turning to Frodo. "Do as your cousin says. Though I am loathe to admit it, he probably has more sense than the rest of us."

Frodo gave a little bow and ducked out of sight and Bilbo looked up. To his relief, Tauriel was in a deep conversation with Gimli, who occasionally sent glances in their direction.

"Back to work." Thorin ordered quietly, and the dwarves all returned to their afore mentioned tasks, only this time they were doing what they appeared to be doing, and Fíli and Kíli joined Bifur, sharpening their own blades.

"Thank you." Bilbo said quietly to Thorin.

Thorin gave a small smile. "I was surprised it took you so long to catch us. You are slipping, burglar."

Bilbo sent Thorin a look of sheer disbelief. "This was just a game, wasn't it?"

"Partly." Thorin admitted. "But it had a practical use, as well."

"You think this is the time for games?"

"No, it is not at all." Thorin's face turned to stone. "But sometimes a distraction is necessary in order to keep your focus."

"Oh, I'm sure." Bilbo huffed. "The practical use?"

"We are running low on supplies."

"Oh, for goodness sake. After all this time, do you not trust Legolas at all? If he says that we will be fine for supplies, we will be fine for supplies."

Thorin nodded curtly. "Look at Nori."

Bilbo did as he was instructed and paused. The heavy grief that had occupied the dwarf's eyes for the past few weeks and lightened considerably in Grimbeorn's house had returned when they entered Mirkwood, but now it had lightened a little again. Though he had not actually stole anything, simply partaking in an illegal activity against the elves had significantly lightened the spiky-haired dwarf's heart.

"Now look at Bofur and Bifur."

Bilbo sighed and obeyed. They both looked a lot more relaxed than they had before, and the whittling and knife sharpening had slowed to the relaxing level it speed they usually whittled at.

"And Dori, Balin and Óin."

The three in question dwarves were murmuring with soft smiles on their faces, and their conversation seemed to have taken a less dangerous direction.

"Now Ori and Frodo."

Quietly discussing something from the book Frodo had been reading when Bilbo caught Fíli and Kíli, the two sensed Bilbo's gaze and looked up. They both smiled, reminding Bilbo of why he usually considered them the gentlest and kindest members of the company.

"Dwalin, Glóin and Gimli."

Bilbo sighed, searching the room for the dwarves Thorin spoke of. They were back in the corner with the smug faces of children who had pulled a prank on another child who they disliked, but at least they were smiling, and did not look as if they were about to kill someone.

Anticipating Thorin's next move, he looked at Fíli and Kíli of his own accord, and was startled by what he saw.

"They're asleep."

"Yes. Do you understand now?"

Bilbo sighed heavily. "I think I do. It's what they needed."

"Exactly. It may not have been diplomatically correct but it was what they needed." Thorin sighed. "I know my people well."

"And I know them well enough to know that I'm not getting any sleep tonight."

Thorin gave a rare chuckle and clapped a hand on Bilbo's shoulder for a moment, before striding away to sit with Dwalin.

Despite his worry that the dwarves' mischief was far from over, sleep claimed Bilbo quickly and he was dragged into the dark realm of dreams and nightmares.

_A child was laughing. _

_"Frodo?" Bilbo frowned, for who else could it be? He walked into his living room and just as he suspected, little Frodo was sitting on the floor with his back to Bilbo, playing with something and giggling. Bilbo smiled. "Frodo…" _

_Something pushed past him and he stumbled back as Merry and Pippin burst into the room. Little Pippin was barely the height of Bilbo's knee, but they knelt by Frodo surprisingly calmly. _

_"What are you all doing here?" Bilbo asked aloud, before he was jolted yet again by two other children, the taller of whom was about as tall as Bilbo's elbow. He blinked, surprised. "Fíli? Kíli?" _

_The latter turned and grinned at him, proving yes, it was Kíli, or a younger version of him. Something in Bilbo's consciousness protested that there was something wrong with this timeline, but as is the way with many dreams, Bilbo ignored this. _

_"What are you doing, Frodo?" _

_The children all laughed and for some reason Bilbo's blood ran cold. He walked over and his stomach lurched. _

_"Frodo?" _

_The little boy's face was covered in blood, which seemed to have come from the gory doll in his hands. _

_"What is _that?" _Bilbo asked, horrified. "Give it to me!" _

_Frodo giggled and refused to pass his cousin the doll, instead squeezing it against his face and rocking back and forward contentedly as more blood oozed from the doll onto his face. _

_Bilbo looked down at the child tugging his waistcoat and cried out in alarm at Pippin's bright red eyes but slowly took the doll the toddler offered him. _

_The doll possessed an alarming likeness for Gandalf, but the wizard's white cloak was blood-stained and its face was contorted in obvious pain. _

_"Who gave this to you?" he whispered, and Pippin smiled innocently, his glowing red eyes staring at Bilbo disconcertingly. _

_"B'bo!" Merry's words were mangled by the thumb in his mouth as he gazed at Bilbo, offering him another bloodied doll. The little Brandybuck's clothes were torn and bloodied, but he did not appear to be hurt at all. _

_With shaking hands, Bilbo took the doll from Merry's ghostly pale hands. Electifying shock coursed through Bilbo and he frowned. _

_"Samwise Gamgee?" he murmured aloud as he turned the doll over in his hands. The likeness was perfect to the gardener that had accompanied Frodo to Mordor (not that Bilbo noticed the ever increasing timeline inconsistences - he was dreaming far too deeply) except for the fact that his head was attached to the rest of the doll with no more than one thread. "Merry-"_

_"For you, Mr Boggins!" Kíli sang innocently, his teeth unnaturally sharp and large in his smiling mouth, thrusting his little red doll into Bilbo's hands. _

_Afraid to look, Bilbo reluctantly glanced at the armless figurine shaped like Legolas, but he barely had time to open with mouth when Fíli crashed into him, staring up with big blue eyes, horrific scars reminiscent of Azog the Defiler marring his cheeks. _

_Before Bilbo could voice his horror the little dwarfling laughed, passing him another doll – this one a likeness of Thorin with a huge hole in its chest. _

_"What are you doing?" Bilbo's voice came out higher than usual as the four children took his arms and dragged him to his garden where a pile of bodies lay against the background of the burning Shire. He tried to scream as he saw Gandalf's sightless eyes, Legolas' empty shoulder sockets and Sam's all but decapitated head, but he could not breathe. He staggered forward but fell backwards when he stood in a hole in the middle of Thorin's chest, his foot passing straight to the floor below._

_Suddenly the laughter behind him turned to screams and he craned his neck but the strength was leaving his body. Horror filled his chest as his house erupted in flames and the screams intensified. _

_Even if the children in that house were incredibly disturbing in comparison to the sweet hobbits and dwarves he knew and loved, they were his family and he needed to get to them - somehow he knew that they were inside again. _

_Bilbo pushed himself off of the floor with all the strength he could muster, but walking back into his house felt like he was walking against overpowering winds, and by the time he reached his living room only one boy was still screaming. _

_"Frodo!" Bilbo cried desperately, flinging out his hand. "Come on!" _

_The bloodied boy was wailing in between the bodies of his friends - who now looked normal, unscarred and very dead - and he did not seem to hear Bilbo. He just clutched the doll to him and screamed. _

_Bilbo could not walk a single step more, so he thrust his hand forward. "Frodo! Run!" _

_A loud roar drew Bilbo's eyes to the window and he gasped as the silhouette of a dragon came closer. He turned back to the child who was now looking at him with wide eyes. _

_"Frodo, run!" he screamed, and the child started to stagger towards him, flexing his muscles and stretching his neck. _

_Bilbo froze in horror as his beloved cousin morphed into Smaug himself before his very eyes, smashing his adored house to pieces. The dragon hid something behind his claws, something that Bilbo could not see, but suddenly his feet were dangling off of the floor and he could not breathe at all. The dragon revealed the tiny doll Frodo had held - the likeness of Bilbo himself - dangling from a noose of string. _

_To the right of the dragon's foot, Bilbo could see the discarded body of little Frodo and rage and fear fought for control of his body as everything went black. _

"Bilbo!"

_The dragon laughed a hacking laugh. "Sleep, little hobbit. We will be seeing each other soon enough." _

"Bilbo! He's not waking up!"

_A voice he felt he should recognise pierced his consciousness, but the dragon's voice dragged him away. _

_"Sleep, little hobbit. Sleep." _

"I bet it was the elves, they did something-"

"Glóin, you are not helping!"

_Bilbo tried to swim towards the other voices but his body was now on fire as well and he opened his eyes to piercing light and the horrific sent of burning – sausages? _

"Bilbo!"

Finally his eyes flew open and he yelped, flinching away from Frodo before he could stop himself.

Worried, Frodo let go of his cousin's shoulders and staggered back. Bilbo put a hand on his head and stared at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Frodo."

Frodo just shook his head, and Bilbo frowned up at Fíli, another of the voices he had heard. He shuddered when he thought of the little boy with the horrifying scars.

"You were shouting."

"Was I?" Bilbo's frown deepened.

"And kicking." Kíli added, his face concerned and his teeth normal sized.

Bilbo's head leant back against the wall he was leaning on. "I am sorry."

"For having a nightmare?" Fíli gave a little smile. "Happens to all of us."

Bilbo nodded absently as his breathing rate slowly returned to normal. Gloin, Fíli and Kíli smiled at him and stood up, walking away when it became apparent that their hobbits were in no danger.

Bilbo's heart seemed to be taking its time in slowing down - his dream had been far too disjointed to be a vision of any sort, but the more imaginative side of him wondered if there was any meaning to it.

He prayed to every deity he had ever heard of that it did not hold any significance for events that were yet to pass, and he could not help but contemplate why his mind had cast Fíli and Kíli as children – he had never met them as children.

"We're readying to leave." Frodo said carefully.

"Are we?" Bilbo blinked. "What time is it?"

"Nearly noon." Frodo slowly passed Bilbo a plate of breakfast, complete with two sausages. "It's all I could save, I didn't want to wake you."

Bilbo gave a small laugh as he took the plate. "I would have thanked you if you had."

Frodo nodded, looking at Bilbo with concern. "What's wrong, Bilbo?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to tell Frodo all about the dream but something stopped him. "Some things are better left unsaid."

"Alright." Frodo nodded. "Do you want something to drink?"

"A glass of water would be greatly appreciated." Bilbo smiled at how well his cousin knew him. As Frodo walked out of the room Bilbo thought of something. "Frodo, do Merry and Pippin know you are with us?"

Frodo's face fell as he paused. "No…I don't know how they would. Do you think Legolas knows anyone who could send word back to the Shire? I did not want to ask Grimbeorn when the Beornings already seemed so unprepared and threatened…"

"I think that would be a very good idea." Bilbo nodded, before shivering again.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Frodo asked, and Bilbo smiled.

"I will be. I'm just a little shaken."

As Frodo left Bilbo alone in the hall Bilbo stared at the plate of food, his heart skipping a beat at a flash of red.

_It's just a tomato, pull yourself together! _He scolded himself, shivering.

A sudden idea kindled in his mind, an idea he tried to quench but an idea that the sadistic side of his subconscious raised to the forefront of his mind.

_What if Merry and Pippin did not get home? What if Frodo was the only one to survive the orcs attack? What if Faramir, Elladan and Elrohir were all dead as well? _

Bilbo groaned, dropping his head into his hands at the same moment as Bilbo returned with a glass of water.

"Bilbo?"

Bilbo looked into Frodo's concerned blue eyes with a heavy sigh. "This is getting to be a lot bigger than I ever hoped it would be, my boy."

Frodo gave a wry smile. "My dear Bilbo, I've been saying that to myself for almost two years."

Bilbo chuckled. "I suppose you have, lad. Whoever would have thought that we Bagginses would become so involved in the outside world?"

Frodo smiled, looking thoughtfully at the company in the courtyard outside who were just visible through the open door. "You know, despite everything that has happened, with the people I know now I wouldn't have it any other way."

Bilbo beamed at his heir and scarfed down his breakfast in less than two minutes.

Then two hobbits returned to their dwarves and prepared for what would likely be the next difficult step of their latest adventure.

**Okay, so Bilbo's dream. I will leave you to ponder over how much of that is nightmare and how much, if any of it, has later significance. **

**I hope you enjoyed that chapter, hopefully the next chapter will be there soon :)**

**Also, I hope I did Thranduil justice - my copy of The Hobbit is currently on the other side of the world and I haven't read it in a while so he may be a little OOC. I coudn't write him as an absolute 100% prick because the World's Worst Dad award goes to Denethor from LOTR everytime (I actually despise that man with an incredibly sad passion) **

**Please drop a review and tell me if I'm still writing good stuff or if the quality is going down :)**

**NOTE THAT YOU MAY IGNORE IF YOU WISH BUT I WOULD APPRECIATE IF YOU READ – **

**While having a little argument with my sister today over who was wasting time more, her reading or me writing when we had been asked to do the dishes and I broke out the stats page to tell her that there were people actually wanting me to update and realised that THERE ARE 68 OF YOU FOLLOWING THIS FIC! Thank you SO MUCH to ALL OF YOU from the absolute BOTTOM OF MY HEART! Not only are you interested in my little fic but you are lots of people and you help me win arguments against my sister (who I do love most of the time :P )**

**I love you lots, thanks for reading! **


	18. Chapter 18: World On Fire

**Hola! Thank you all for the reviews – I hope the last chapter wasn't too disturbing, the nightmare was written as it was for a reason :(**

**Even so, I hope you enjoy this next chapter. **

** TolkienGeek: I'm sorry that you don't like Tauriel – personally I will have to wait until I see what happens in the film before I develop an actual opinion and I'm sorry that Bilbo's dream was a little disturbing. There was a reason for that which will be seen later, but then again I'm sorry, I hope this chapter is a little better for you :) thanks for reviewing. **

**Chapter Eighteen # World on Fire #**

_"I'll return from darkness and save your precious skin_

_I will end your suffering and let the healing light come in _

_Sent by forces beyond salvation_

_There can be not one sensation_

_World on fire with a smoking sun_

_Stops everything and everyone_

_Brace yourself for all will pay_

_Help is on the way_

_Girl I will cover you when the sky comes crashing in_

_I'll go the distance, lead the way to your darkest sin_

_Oh you know there's something _

_Coming down from the skies above." Les Friction, World on Fire_

"Grim?"

"I told you to leave, Caver."

"Grimbeorn, I'm afraid."

"That's why I told you to leave."

Caver looked up at the older skin-changer hopelessly. "I can't."

"Why not?" Grimbeorn's eyes did not leave the empty plain.

"I-"

"Wait!" Grimbeorn hissed, holding his hand up. Then he let out a low growl. "Here comes a scout – you'd better stay here."

Caver let out a tiny whimper, moving ever so slightly behind Grimbeorn as a single warg rider came into view.

"Stop!" Grimbeorn bellowed calmly as the orc drew closer.

A wicked grin spread across the creature's face and Caver shuddered.

"You are about to enter the land of the Beornings and if you do, I guarantee that you will not pass through." Grimbeorn's voice rang with authority and the orc drew a little closer.

"Know this, woodsman! I am one of many and all we seek is a single company of dwarves. If you suffer us to pass your people shall remain untouched. If you put up a fight we will destroy you all." His black eyes fixed on Caver. "To the last child."

Grimbeorn strode forward with his eyes on fire. "Threaten my people again and I swear to you it is the last thing you will do."

The orc laughed coldly. "You think we have not yet touched your people? The Northern stretches of your pathetic lands are burning and unless you let us pass I swear to _you, _woodsman, that the rest of your realm will follow."

Caver's heart skipped several beats as Grimbeorn roared and whipped a knife from his back, embedding in into the creature's neck.

Even as the warg lurched towards him Grimbeorn transformed into an enormous bear, tearing out the wolf-like creature's throat with one strike of his deadly paw.

Caver gaped as the bear turned towards him, hatred burning in its eyes. He had never been so relieved to witness a transformation when Grimbeorn quickly turned back into a man.

He scooped up his discarded and ruined clothes and tied only the weapons belt back around his waist, arming himself instantly. Then he picked up a small set of wooden pipes.

"It's really happening?" Caver asked shakily, and the leader of the Beornings nodded, calling his people to war with the shrill sound of the pipes.

The response was almost immediate, with howls and screeches and whistles of reply, and the Beornings began to leave the cover of the trees, coming straight to Grimbeorn.

They had been ready for days and they were dressed for war – the skin-changers wearing nought but weapons' belts and the men, women and few elves amongst them in thick leather armour.

"We have been threatened by this scum!" Grimbeorn roared, lifting the dead orc from the floor with one hand. "To quote the monster – to the last child!"

The hairs on the back of Caver's neck stood up as the people roared in unified anger.

"We will not suffer them to pass!" Grimbeorn's fiery eyes scared Caver, but at the same time a strange feeling was flowing through his veins.

He _wanted _to fight. He _wanted _to transform, and sink his fangs into the festering flesh of those who hurt and threatened his friends.

Grimbeorn continued. "We fight!"

"We fight!" Was the unanimous reply, and Caver found himself raising his fit into the air with many others.

In only an hour, three hundred warriors stood between the advancing orcs. Eighty, Narwyn had told him. There were eighty armed warg riders, this should be easy.

An eagle swooped overhead, screeching a few notes that would haunt Caver forever. Grimbeorn looked up, fear in his eyes for the first time as he saw the army coming over the hill.

The eagle's message was clear.

Eighty orcs was a vast understatement.

"Grim?" Amalie asked in a wavering voice as an unbreaking line of hundreds of orcs marched closer.

He turned to her and swallowed. "I…I thought there were eighty…"

"We'll still fight." A voice called from their midst, and murmured replies joined him.

"Whether there are eighty or eight hundred we will put up a fight." Narwyn agreed, glancing at Caver. "We need to protect our children and our land."

The mutters of agreement turned into shouts.

"You called us to fight, Grimbeorn. With all you and your father have done for us, we would have followed you into any battle." One of the most reclusive skin-changers of them all, a man known simply as Wolf, announced. "Even if the battle did not concern us. This battle does concern us. We will not stand for this invasion."

Grimbeorn nodded, and Caver was sure he was not the only one to see the gratitude shining their leader's eyes.

Amalie took a deep breath, putting her hands on Caver's shoulders. "You should run."

He shook his head. "Boys younger than me fought for Rohan and Gondor."

"Caver," she paused as they began to form lines. "Please… You're just a pup."

He smiled at his friend. "I'll be alright."

Amalie closed her eyes and took his hand, joining her brother in the front line but jostling Caver so he stood behind her.

She squeezed his hand and he squeezed hers back.

"Let us pass!" the apparent leader of the orcs ordered from the other side of the plain.

"Go back to the mountains!" Grimbeorn retorted simply. "We will _not _suffer you to pass."

"Then you will all die!" the orc screamed, starting the charge.

"Interesting battle cry." Amalie muttered, but she clasped Caver's hand harder.

"For Beorn?" Grimbeorn muttered back.

"That'll do for now, but next time-"

"For Beorn!" Grimbeorn roared, and the Beornings charged, the skin-changers transforming as they ran.

Caver's yelp was lost in the fray as his hand was torn from Amalie's and somehow he could not change. His body did not listen to him and his head started to swim as bodies buffeted past him.

"Catapult!" Someone cried, and Caver screamed as a ball of fire smashed into the head of a man standing two feet away from him.

The battle had begun.

Battle cries were all that reached his ears and the stench of blood was all that found its way to his nose. The fire began to burn all around him and everyone was screaming and Caver staggered backwards, trying to shield his head from the endless strikes.

Suddenly his feet were not underneath him anymore and he was on the floor staring up at a goblin with the biggest axe he had ever seen. He did not even have time to scream as it swung down towards him, but he blinked and the goblin was gone. A very familiar wolf was in its place, and Caver stifled a sob.

Amalie grabbed his tunic in between her teeth and leapt into the nearby trees, lowering him down gently. With a shake of her head she transformed and Caver started to hyperventilate.

"A-A-Amalie!"

"Run, Caver!" she put her hands on his shoulders, before hugging him quickly. "You're too young to be here, run!"

"Where?" Caver's voice cracked as she pushed him away. "They came from the North – my parents-"

Amalie thought for a moment. "Could you get to the Shire, to tell Frodo's friends that he's alright?"

Caver frowned but nodded. "I could do that…Why?"

"Because they need to know, you're doing something useful, and the Shire is the safest place I can think of right now."

A familiar roar drew both of their attention back to the battlefield as Grimbeorn stumbled backwards, blood flooding down his snout.

"I have to go, Caver, run! Don't look back, run!"

Caver nodded shakily. "Be careful!"

"Just run!" Amalie yelled, already preparing to transform again.

Caver whimpered aloud for a moment before turning tail and running, transforming midstride. The moment the transformation was complete, his fear fuelled his animal instincts and he bolted towards the mountains. There was a path he knew, a road that the goblins never used, that would take him past Rivendell.

He could get to the Shire. He _would _get to the Shire.

The panic enveloping him may have made him run faster, but it also left him partially blind to his surroundings, and those he shared them with.

Caver never made it to the Shire.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

The Elvenking did not make another appearance before the dwarves departed. Instead, Tauriel and a few of Legolas' friends escorted the dwarves out of the halls, leading them to the path that would take them towards Lake Town.

Instead of taking the path Thorin would have taken, one of Legolas' friends had suggested they take a relatively new path that followed the river, allowing them to follow the steps they took before more accurately. Ori was just grateful to have avoided the barrels.

He was more worried, however, about their reception at Lake Town. It would not be as warm as it had been before, that much was painfully obvious to anyone with half a brain. The last time they had passed through Lake Town, the place had been razed days later, and Thorin Oakenshield's name was still tainted with distrust and, in some cases, disdain for the people of Lake Town.

Would the people of Lake Town even suffer them to pass? If they did not, the company could run into serious trouble. And even if they reached Dale and Erebor itself, how would they be welcomed there?

Despite his worries for the path ahead, Ori could not wait to get back to Erebor. Or maybe he could. Like Balin and Óin, he had seen many good dwarves fall in Moria; indeed he had witnessed the demise of more of their kin than the other two had. Facing their families would be difficult, to say the least, and that would be if the families were forgiving.

Once again, Ori wished that he had been reborn with the beard he died with if nothing else – at least he would have looked more like the adult he felt he was in his heart.

"The barrels were faster." Kíli grumbled as he slipped in the stinking mud for the fifth time.

"Oh much faster. We also nearly drowned." Ori pointed out and Kíli grunted reluctantly.

"I still prefer the barrels."

"Really?" Ori laughed. "I suppose _you _would."

"Of course I would. They were a lot more _fuuun!_" Kíli's statement turned into a yelp as his feet slipped out from underneath him once again.

"If you don't stop grumbling I'll throw you in the river and you can float down yourself." Dwalin growled as he caught the stumbling dwarf.

"Thank you, Dwalin." Kíli said dutifully as he finally got his grip.

Frodo followed Dwalin deep in thought. Legolas had indeed found someone willing to travel to the Shire to deliver Frodo's letter to Merry and Pippin, and the intended messenger had left on horseback even before the dwarves had.

Frodo hoped beyond hope that Merry and Pippin were alright. His cousins were his best friends, along with Sam, and if anything had happened to them Frodo did not think that he could stand it. He thought of Sam, and wondered what Merry and Pippin had told the ever faithful gardener. He could practically hear Sam's voice in his head.

_"I look after Mr Frodo for a whole year – all the way to Mordor and back – and you two fools couldn't even look him for a week?" _

Frodo missed Sam more than he expected he would – it was strange travelling without him. He hoped that Sam was not too upset with whatever he thought had happened to him, but Frodo knew that that hope would undoubtedly be in vain.

"How's Sam?" Bilbo asked him suddenly and he jumped.

"What-oh. He's happy, or he was when I left." Frodo smiled, counting in his head for a moment and then gasping softly. "Rosie would be ready to give birth any day now…"

"Really? That's wonderful."

"Yes…I can't believe I have been away for months!"

"Has it been that long?" Bilbo frowned. "I hadn't noticed at all."

"It took us five to get to the Shire from Erebor." Bofur remarked, joining the conversation with ease. "I'm very glad to be nearly home again, I can tell you. Though I'm sure you both know the feeling."

The hobbits grinned at each other and nodded, but Frodo's face fell rather quickly.

"What's wrong?" Bofur quizzed.

"I was just wondering what has happened to Bag End…If Merry and Pippin think that I am dead…"

Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh, not the Sackville-Bagginses, _please _not the Sackville-Bagginses!"

Frodo and Bofur laughed.

"Are they really that bad?" Bofur raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes." Bilbo all but choked. "Did I tell you how they had sold almost everything I had in my apartment by the time I arrived back home?"

"No…They sound even worse than Glóin's in laws. They tried to sell _him_!"

Bilbo and Frodo laughed again.

Kíli was right, the barrels were a lot quicker, but three days later they finally found themselves outside the gates of Lake Town.

When the guards heard who was outside they ran straight for the current Master of Lake Town, who met them outside.

"Rumours of the Blessing of the Ancients have met us even here but I never would have guessed…" he stared Thorin up and down. "Thorin Oakenshield…what makes you think you, of all people, would be welcome here?"

Thorin bowed his head humbly. "We do not mean to do anything other than pass through."

"I would not have you pass through here." The Master spat. "You refused-"

"I know what I did." Thorin interrupted. "And I am truly sorry for it."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. I intend to repay you as soon as I have the means."

The Master raised an eyebrow. "Even if I believed you, I could not bring you through the city now. "

"Why?" Legolas frowned.

"The King of Rohan is here, and with the growing darkness across Middle Earth our security level is high. No strangers are being permitted access to the city until he leaves."

"King Eómer?" Legolas asked. "May I speak with him?"

"No." the Master scoffed. "I've just told you that he is the reason you are not permitted to enter Lake Town. It's political."

"Will you tell him that Legolas, son of Thranduil, Prince of the Woodland Realm would appreciate an audience with him?"

Bofur chuckled to himself as the Master's mouth dropped a little when Legolas coldly stated who he was and he nodded, backing away into the city. Minutes later he returned looking as if he had just sucked a lemon, a tall, powerful looking man following him.

"Legolas!" The stranger greeted the elf with a fond smile and a brief embrace, before looking at Gimli with pleasant surprise. "Gimli."

"King Eómer." Gimli nodded with a smile.

"And Frodo." Eómer remarked when he saw the young hobbit.

"My Lord." Frodo bowed.

"How is Merry?"

Bofur gaped at the King's question but Frodo just smiled. "Well, to the extent of my knowledge."

The King bowed his head at Frodo and turned to the Master of Lake Town. "I trust these people, sir, and if it does not displease them I would have them dine with me tonight."

The Master's mouth dropped open and he tried to collect himself. "I thought you wished to dine alone tonight, my lord."

"I would prefer the company of my comrades in arms, if it is not an inconvenience for you." Eómer smiled at the Master who nodded.

"Of course not, of course not."

"We will pay for our food." Thorin insisted. "It is the least I could do."

The Master nodded reluctantly and unable to believe their luck, Bofur followed the rest of the company into the city.

The dwarves were smuggled into Lake Town effectively, and by the time the evening meal was ready only the gate guards and Eómer's personal guard were aware to the presence of Thorin Oakenshield.

"So tell me…The Master of Lake Town explained to me about the Blessing of the Ancients – I must admit I had never heard of it before." The King of Rohan began the conversation.

"Neither had we." Thorin admitted, and the young King laughed.

"That must have been a surprise."

"Oh, it was." Frodo muttered.

"What brings you to Lake Town?" Legolas asked Eómer curiously and the King sighed.

"I do not know if you have heard, but Rohan and Gondor are both the unwilling hosts of legions of orcs that continue to slip past our defences. I travelled here, to our distant kin, to see if they were having the same problems." Eómer sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I am not sure if I made the right decision coming here myself, but then again Theodred was always the politician."

"I do not think that you made a bad decision." Thorin mused.

A servant started to refill their beer tankards and Eómer glanced at Gimli with a small smile.

"Don't you dare bring that up, laddie!" Gimli warned, guessing the reason for the king's amusement.

"I believe you just brought it up yourself." Legolas smiled.

"Brought what up?" Bofur asked, a smile pulling at his lips as Gimli went red.

Eómer grinned. "A drinking game that took place in Edoras after the victory at Helm's Deep. Master Gimli accused Legolas of being unable to hold his liquor and then collapsed, while the elf was experiencing – was it a slight tingling in your fingers?"

Legolas nodded, taking a sip of his ale.

After that, the conversation quickly took a lighter turn and the company began to relax a little. They slept the next day and left when darkness fell, thanking the Master of Lake Town and the King of Rohan with varying levels of enthusiasm.

"I did not think that 'thief in the night' was really your style." Dwalin said to Thorin quietly as they snuck out of the gate and headed towards Dale.

"I have caused enough grief to that town. Should the Master ask me to keep my presence unknown, that is exactly what I will do." Thorin retorted stiffly.

"Do you think there was another reason our presence was kept so quiet?" Dwalin growled. "I do not trust the Master of Lake Town."

"You do not trust many people." Thorin remarked.

"Neither do you."

Thorin shared a dark look with Dwalin. "Exactly."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

_"Are you sure you wish to do this?" Kára asked Alfr quietly, straightening out his furs. Mere metres to her left, Vidar was saying goodbye to his wife, Orah, and his two little children, who were six and two if she remembered correctly. The youngest, his daughter, was no more than a babe in arms. _

_"I have to. For you." Alfr said, his eyes burning with sincerity and passion. "And for Bump." _

_Kára gave a weak smile, pressing her palm against the side of his face. "You don't have to do anything."_

_"I know you don't want to be alone, but it's only been a month and it's a long way to the Shire. Nori's going to visit the halfling, he'll be back soon." Alfr insisted, his faith in his brother-in-law strong as ever. _

_"I know." Kára murmured sadly. "But that is not the road you will be taking." _

_"No. We can't be found." Alfr nodded. "Which is the other reason I have to go. I can do that, Kára, I can sneak like the best of them - I_ am _the best of them! Apart from Nori, of course." _

_"I know, I know." _

_Alfr put his hands on his sister's shoulder. He was taller than her, just, but his face was a clear display of his youth. "I will come back to you, sister. I will take the message to the Blue Mountains and I'll return, as quickly as I can." _

_"It's dangerous, Alf." _

_"I know." _

_"Alfr, we have to go." Vidar called mournfully, and Alfr hugged Kára tightly. _

_"I love you, Kára, and I'll see you soon, I promise." _

Kára had never been so afraid in her whole life.

The letter had arrived two days ago, if it could be called a letter. A short paragraph scratched hurriedly into scorched parchment telling her that her Alfr and Vidar had been slaughtered by orcs in the Misty Mountains, their message ruined and never delivered, save a few salvageable words, and that Nori had arrived minutes after the event. It told her that her husband had witnessed her brother's final moments, and that the messengers had received proper burials, as far as they could be given. It told her that Nori was part of a group journeying back to Erebor, and they would be there as soon as they could.

Kára was terrified.

A large part of her refused to accept that she was now alone – a brotherless orphan – Lóni's death had been hard enough to take, but young Alfr, so alive and full of energy – he could not be dead.

Her mind was accepting it slowly, and that made the pain so much more intense.

Vidar's children were still wailing, their mother to shocked and grieved to console them with words she no longer possessed. Kára could hear them, their cries ringing in her ears, even when she was on the other side of the mountain.

"Kára?"

She whirled around and started as Áile, Glóin's wife appeared behind her, and the brunette held her hands up quickly.

"I'm sorry to startle you."

Kára tried to find the words to say it was alright, but they stuck in her throat so she just nodded quickly.

"Oh, Kára, I am so sorry." Áile crossed the hall in a few meaningful strides and Kára felt her own sobs resurfacing as her friend embraced her. "Oh, Kára…sh, shh…"

Kára tried to obey, her sobs shaking her whole body, but she could not. Áile seemed to understand, letting the younger woman cry as much as she needed. Though there was a large age difference between the two, with Nori and Glóin being relatively close they had seen a lot of each other in the past five years and had quickly become fast friends.

"I'm so scared!" Kára managed to gasp, and Áile nodded.

"I know…"

"I – I – I- What if it happens to me?" Kára sobbed.

"It won't, we will not let it." Áile swore.

"But…"

"Everything will be alright, Kára."

"I need him to come back." Kára admitted finally. "I need them _both, _I need them to come home, I need…"

As she trailed off, Áile nodded wordlessly.

Kára sniffed, trying to pull herself together. Her hand found its way down to her stomach and she swallowed. "You won't let it happen?"

"Of course not." Áile shook her head. "Come…"

"Where?"

"The kitchen."

"I'm not hungry, Áile." Kára tried to worm away but Áile slung her arm over Kára's shoulders.

"You do not have a choice, Kára. You need to eat something."

Kára reluctantly submitted when she realised that she did not have a choice, following Áile towards the kitchen with a backwards glance at the window she had been gazing out of with a final desperate thought.

_Please come home Nori. I can't lose anyone else. _

**Okay, I know it was a bit of a filler chapter and a bit OC heavy but we will be back to the company next chapter round, where they will reach Dale. And what happens in Dale has been planned since the very beginning of this story, so I can't wait to write it! **

**Thanks for reading! Theories, anybody? I love hearing them :)**


	19. Chapter 19: The Kids Aren't Alright

**Thank you very much for two lovely reviews! **

**The two main events of this chapter were planned before I even had a main storyline so this has been fun to write, and I really tried to make it as good as possible for you all! **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Nineteen # The Kids Aren't Alright #**

_"When we were young the future was so bright_

_The whole neighbourhood was so alive_

_And every kid on the whole damn street_

_Was gonna make it big in every beat. _

_Now the neighbourhood's cracked and torn_

_The kids are grown up but their lives are worn_

_How can one little street swallow so many lives?_

_Chances blown, nothing's free_

_Longing for used to be_

_Still it's hard, hard to see, _

_Fragile lives, shattered dreams." The Offspring, The Kids Aren't Alright._

Nothing marked the spot. There was no statue or sign, not even a pebble or a wildflower to mark the stone that held such significance for Thorin.

He stared at the slab that jutted obnoxiously out of the mountain, stuck in an endless void of reminiscence as his mind sucked him sixty years into the past.

_When he started breathing in his own blood, Thorin knew that it was bad. _

_He was lying in the middle of the battlefield but the fight was going over his head both literally and figuratively, and Thorin knew that he was dying. _

_Out of nowhere, Fíli appeared, a roar tearing from his throat as he cut down the orcs bearing down on Thorin, and the King's heart swelled with pride and a strong desire not to fail his sister-son. The tired muscle beat with renewed vigour. The feelings both intensified as Kíli appeared behind his brother, and he knew that he would be safe as long as they– _

_Someone screamed, their agony entering Thorin's blurred consciousness and his heart screamed when his mouth could not. _

_KÍLI!_

_"No!" Fíli's scream voiced what Thorin had to say. "Kíli, Kí-"_

_Then Fíli stopped screaming, why was Fíli not screaming, oh Mahal… _

_Thorin's vision suddenly cleared in time for him to see his sister-sons, his beloved nephews falling in front of him._

_No! he tried to scream, and he tried to reach for them but he could not move a muscle. _

_Thorin felt his vision fade, and the next thing he knew he was in a tent. _

_"Ba-lin?" he struggled to form his friend's name. _

_"Oh, thank Mahal…" the old dwarf groaned. _

_"Balin, what happened?" Thorin moaned, feeling both numbness and pain all about his body. _

_"We won the battle, laddie, we won." Balin nodded. _

_"Fíli, Kíli…" _

_Balin shook his head, his tear streaked face telling Thorin all that he needed to know. Or rather, all that he did not need to know. _

_"No…" he shook his head. "No, no, oh Mahal…They were right in front of me, Balin-"_

_"We found them." Balin interrupted him in a cracked voice. "They're together, Thorin." _

_Thorin's heart broke and he knew in that moment that he was going to die. He had lost too much, no, he had _destroyed_ too much to will his heart to beat another dismal beat. _

_"Here comes our burglar." Balin announced softly, and Thorin urged his heart beat just a few more times. _

_There were so many things that he would never set right, but his business with Bilbo Baggins would be sorted. Fíli and Kíli would never forgive him if it was not. _

_Even as he spoke to the company's tearful burglar, Thorin could count down his own heart beats as they faded out. _

_"If all of us valued food and cheer and song…" _

_Six. _

_"Above hoarded gold…" _

_Five._

_"It would be a merrier world…" _

_Four. _

_"But sad or merry…" _

_Three. _

_"I must leave it now…" _

_Two. _

_"Farewell!" _

_One. _

As the memory of his death faded away Thorin stared at the rock his sister-sons had fallen on – the rock that had doubled as their death bed – and he could still see their twisted, mangled bodies, so far away and yet so close.

"Thorin?" Dwalin's confused voice entered his consciousness.

He blinked, and the apparition dissipated before his eyes. "Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

Thorin just raised an eyebrow and continued to walk, hearing Dwalin's muttering with slight amusement as they followed the River Running.

It was a two day walk from Lake Town to Dale, and the colours that the setting sun threw onto the Lonely Mountain warmed Thorin's heart a little. He turned and looked at Fíli and Kíli, who were both being quieter than usual. As he watched, Fíli stopped, staring at the same piece of mountain that had transfixed his uncle. Kíli put a hand on his brother's arm but did not speak and Fíli turned, giving Kíli a weak smile before moving on.

Moving on.

For words so simple, it sounded such a difficult task.

They stopped for the night under the stars, their fire warm and their watch strong, and Thorin slipped quietly into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

When he woke, the company were not alone. A young man was watching them with a friendly smile.

"Thorin Oakenshield?"

"Yes…" Thorin stared at the man, getting up.

"My name is Berr, King Bard the second of Dale sent me to escort you into the city."

"King Bard II?" Dwalin interrupted with a frown. "What become of King Brand?"

Berr sighed. "He fell last week, along with the King Under the Mountain."

"What?" Nori cried. "How?"

Berr looked at the ground respectfully. "The two kings were riding down from the mountain in council when they were set upon by a band of assassins. The perpetrators were caught."

"Why are we being granted an escort?" Thorin asked suspiciously.

"The Master of Lake Town sent word of your coming and the King wishes your path to Dale to be as smooth as possible." Berr smiled.

Thorin nodded curtly. Though he did not feel that he needed an escort, politics was a tricky game and he did not want to insult the people of Dale - Mahal knew he had already insulted enough cities of men.

The day passed pleasantly, as far as days of travelling passed, at least until Fíli and Kíli thought of a new game to play.

"Uncle, we were talking to Berr and an interesting topic came up." Kíli started as he joined Thorin.

"Oh, really?" Thorin could tell that he did not want to be a part of this conversation.

"Yes. If we were standing on top of the mountain and we were about to fall and you could only save one of us, who would you save?" Fíli asked somberly.

Thorin looked at Fíli incredulously. "What sort of question is that?"

His heir shrugged with a small smile. "An interesting one."

"You have to answer truthfully." Kíli butted in.

Thorin glared at him. "I am not going to answer such a stupid question."

The drastic fall of Kíli's face instantly had Thorin regretting his words. "I'm sorry, Thorin. It was just a question."

"I wouldn't." Thorin sighed before Kíli had a chance to slip behind.

"What?" Kíli frowned, and Thorin looked him straight in the eye.

"I would not save one of you. I would rather throw myself down the mountain headfirst."

Kíli gave a small smile, but Thorin understood the glint in his eye.

He sighed heavily. "I suppose that is against the rules of this little game?"

Kíli laughed brightly. "Most of the time."

"In that case…" Thorin thought for a moment, rubbing his chin and then winking at Kíli. "You are the spare…"

As Kíli gasped in mock horror and Fíli put a hand up to his forehead dramatically, Thorin started to chuckle. His sister-sons joined in and when Fíli and Kíli fell back he could hear Kíli whispering excitedly.

"Can you even remember the last time Thorin joked with us?"

"Who says he was joking? You _are _the spare."

"Oh, you wound me, brother!" Kíli cried, before quietening again. "I'm serious, Fíli. It's almost…"

"What?" Fíli asked quietly, and Thorin had to strain to hear Kíli's next words.

"It's almost like it was before…I mean before the quest, before…well, just before."

"I know." Fíli murmured.

"I told myself for so long that it would never be how it was before… even before we reached the Shire I knew we would probably never see… _him _again, I knew it wouldn't be the same but I hoped… A little part of me still does, I can't help it but…urgh."

"Me too." Fíli said quietly.

Thorin frowned to himself, wondering what on earth his nephews were talking about.

"You don't know what they're talking about, do you?"

He jumped as Balin practically read his thoughts. "You do?"

Balin smiled sadly at the youngest dwarves who had retreated to speak with Frodo and Berr again, their faces smiling once again. "Aye, I do…"

"What were they talking about?" Thorin's frowned deepened.

"You, laddie." Balin sighed. "They would never say it, not if they lived a million years, but they miss the way you were – the way we all were – before any signs hinted that it might possibly be time to retake Erebor."

_"So Uncle." Fíli stood on his tiptoes to put his chin on the table. "Who is your favourite, Kíli or me?" _

_"I'm sorry?" Thorin frowned, and Kíli toddled over raising his arms into the air. _

_"You just need say Kíli." His youngest sister-son smiled angelically as Thorin lifted him into his lap._

_"You are both my favourites."_

_"No!" Fíli laughed. "You have to choose, Uncle Thorin!" _

_"I do?" Thorin pretended to mull it over. "I suppose I would have to say that my favourite nephew is the one who is always giving me cuddles!" _

_Kíli squealed with delight as Thorin tickled him quickly and Fíli made his protestations known to half of the Blue Mountains. _

_"That's not fair; mama says I'm too big to get on your lap at the same time as Kíli and Kíli's _always _in your lap, it's not fair! I never get to cuddle you anymore because you always want to cuddle Kíli, because Kíli's the cute little baby and Kíli's always everyone's favourite and I just _can't _cuddle you as much as Kíli can because I'm not cute and little and-"_

_Thorin watched in surprise as Fíli's cheerful mood vanished and tears of frustration sprang to his big blue eyes. _

_"Fee?" Kíli asked quietly, his fingers clutching Thorin's hair a little fearfully. "I done bad?" _

_"No." Thorin said instantly, shifting Kíli further to one side of his knee. "Fíli, come here." _

_Instantly Fíli's mouth popped open and he shook his head. "I'm sorry!" _

_"Don't speak, Fíli, come here." Thorin ordered, pointing to the floor by his knee. _

_Obediently Fíli shuffled over, sniffing and wiping his eyes desperately. As soon as he was close enough, Thorin looped his arm around Fíli and lifted him up onto his other knee, pulling him close. _

_"Kíli is not my favourite-"_

_"Nu ah!" Kíli shook his head vigorously. _

_"I love you both the same, you silly boy." Thorin smiled gently. "I was only teasing." _

_"Yep!" Kíli nodded with just as much heartiness. _

_"Kíli may be the littlest, but you are the biggest, and that's just as special as being the littlest. You'll be able to do lots of things before Kíli can. And do not listen to your mother, you can cuddle me whenever you like." _

_"Wheneber." Kíli nodded. _

_Fíli sniffed. "Really?" _

_"Of course." Thorin scoffed, before planting a small kiss onto Fíli's head. _

_"You my fave-it, Fee." Kíli smiled, stroking Fíli's blond hair with the clumsy affection of a toddler. _

_"Will you play with us, Uncle Thorin? Pretty please?" Fíli begged, and Thorin pretended to hesitate. _

_"Well…" _

_"Please!" They chorused. _

_Thorin smiled. "Alright." _

_"Hi sneeze!" Kíli squealed and Thorin frowned. _

_"What?"_

_"Please hi sneeze!" _

_Fíli giggled. "He means hide and seek." _

_"I sneeze!" Kíli begged. _

_And that was how a fully grown King in Exile was found hiding in a laundry basket by his amused sister, entertained friend Dwalin and giggling nephew. _

_He had tucked the boys into bed that night, a task that usually belonged to Dís. _

_"Uncle Thorin?" Fíli asked sleepily as Thorin made to exit the room. _

_"Yes?" _

_"Will you always love us both? Or when we get big and boring will you not love us anymore?" _

_Thorin crossed back over to the big bed the brothers shared and stared into Fíli's eyes. "Listen, Fíli, because this is very important. You could not be boring if you tried." _

_Fíli giggled at Thorin's grin. "Thank you. I love you, Uncle Thorin." _

_"I love you too." Thorin smiled, finally leaving the room. _

"Thorin?"

Once again, one of Fundin's sons broke Thorin out of his daydream.

"Forgive me…I was…remembering."

Balin smiled sympathetically. "It's not the world's easiest task, laddie."

They reached Dale in good time, and Berr disappeared before them into the city to announce their arrival to the king. Bard II emerged from the city walls himself with a grieved face and a wan but welcoming smile.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I presume?" Bard II bowed briefly at the dwarf who returned the gesture. Then his eyes flickered over to the dwarves he recognised, especially Nori and Dwalin. "I am very glad that you have returned, though not nearly as glad as the Lonely Mountain will be, I'm sure."

"We have heard that things go badly at the mountain." Thorin nodded, and Bard II sighed.

"As much as we try to help, there is little we can do We were told what happened only last week." He did not elaborate, instead beckoning to a guard. "There is much that needs to be discussed, and I would expect that you are a little travel weary. Come."

They followed the King into Dale and he led them straight to his halls. They sat around the table and brief introductions were made, before Bard cleared his throat.

"Thorin Stonehelm is also in Dale now, and as King Under the Mountain he wishes to speak with you."

"Of course." Thorin bowed, and Bard nodded at his guard.

Thorin was a little surprised at how much Thorin Stonehelm had changed since last he had seen him. When the now king had joined his father at the meeting in Ered Luin regarding the quest for Erebor he had been only a little older than Fíli and Kíli, but now he had a beard to be proud of and a serious manner to match.

He bowed respectfully at the older Thorin. "Oakenshield."

"Stonehelm." Thorin returned the gesture and the younger Thorin took his seat. Much like Bard II, his face was still heavy with the grief of his father's death, but curiosity shone in his eyes.

"I am very pleased to see you, though I would be lying if I did not say that I was almost more pleased to see Dwalin and Nori – we have felt your absence sorely the past few months." Before the two could apologise Thorin Stonehelm held up a hand. "Not that I would have had you stay when you needed to go – I know enough about the Blessing of the Ancients to know that that would be a death sentence and you did not have a choice – not to mention I would be severely shocked and saddened if your years of living under my father's rule had lessened your loyalty for Thorin Oakenshield."

"Where did you learn about the Blessing?" Thorin asked curiously. "It is not something I had ever heard of."

Thorin Stonehelm sighed. "A scholar in my father's court had heard of it and mentioned it soon after you left – after we investigated the details it was not hard to put the pieces together. We have suspected that the Blessing of the Ancients was what drew you away from Erebor since two weeks after you left, and we received our confirmation from the Master of Lake Town."

Thorin nodded. "I see."

"What I did not suspect was that Thranduil's son would be with you, nor you Gimli." Thorin Stonehelm looked curiously at the company's new additions. "And you... Are you Frodo Baggins?"

Looking a little shocked, Frodo nodded. "Yes, my Lord."

Thorin Stonehelm smiled a little. "I thought as much. Interesting additions, cousin."

"I agree." Thorin Oakenshield gave a little smile at the new members. "Yet they have all proved trustworthy, useful and loyal."

"I do not doubt it." The younger Thorin nodded. "But to business. I expect that you wish to take the crown of Erebor?"

Taking a deep breath, Thorin son of Thráin, son of Thror, shook his head. "I would not insult you that way."

Thorin Stonehelm gave another little smile and sat back in his chair thoughtfully. "Really?"

"Yes." Thorin nodded.

"You know I have not yet had my coronation…" the younger Thorin paused, speaking more to his hands than to Thorin. "There is no greater dwarven kingdom in this world than Erebor. There is no position more magnificent, more powerful or noble than King of Erebor for any dwarf. The mines are abundant, and many yet unexplored, the people are – usually – content but always loyal and hardworking. No dwarf could wish more in life than the honour of being its King."

He sighed and looked at Thorin, his coal black eyes meeting his older cousin's steely blue ones.

"Erebor is more than I could ever ask for, but it is not my home. I was born in the Iron Hills, and though I have dwelled in Erebor for nigh on sixty years, my heart belongs in my home. I could not – I _will _not – sit on the Throne of Erebor when the ones who reclaimed it – and rightly own it – still live. If it pleases you, Thorin Oakenshield, I will go back and regain lordship over the Iron Hills, and you may sit on the throne of Erebor once again."

Thorin Oakenshield was speechless when Thorin Stonehelm finished his speech, and around the entire tables eyes were wide and mouths ajar.

"Thank you…that would please me greatly…" he managed to stammer. "Though the last time I had that power…"

"Do not worry about the mistakes of the past." Thorin Stonehelm shook his head. "Without them many things would have been different, and maybe things happened for the best. Besides, I have been informed by the people that, and I quote 'we do not mind which Thorin becomes our king, as long as we may have a King Thorin'."

Thorin Oakenshield nodded with a weak smile, an incredible joy filling his heart. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Then the younger dwarf's face fell. "Though if it suits you, I would not leave right away. As I know you are aware, Erebor is under threat at the moment and I am not the type of dwarf to turn his back on his kin in a crisis."

"Thank you." Thorin repeated with a nod. "What is wrong in the mountain?"

Thorin Stonehelm sighed and nodded at his guard. Three dwarves left to check the perimeter and the others positioned themselves by the door. Bard II, who had been watching the proceedings quietly, banished his own guard with a flick of his hand, well aware that the dwarves were not yet ready to have their situation known by all.

"As of yet we have not told any outside the mountain but Bard – our fathers were both killed by assassins as they discussed it." The young Thorin explained regretfully. "We are not sure what threatens us and for many that is the worst part. We were positive for a long while that it was a disease; it emerged a few years ago. The women named it the Choking Sickness – of all the women that gave birth several fell ill and a couple died of the sickness, and all of the babies passed away."

"I remember that." Nori said quietly. "I thought that passed last year."

The speaker nodded. "So did we. Another woman fell ill shortly before you left and lost her baby, but then shortly after you left it became an epidemic. We had almost a hundred women in the mountain preparing to give birth and of them all only forty one babes have been born. And that is not all. The sickness has spread to the children – any under the age of twenty are at risk. Though more and more women are surviving, the mortality rate for the children is higher than almost anything we have seen before."

"That is why you have not asked the elves or men for help." Thorin realised in horror. "Because it threatened the women and children."

Thorin Stonehelm nodded gravelly.

"You said that you _thought _it was a disease – why don't you think that now?" Bilbo asked worriedly. "If you don't mind my asking, of course."

"Not at all." Thorin Stonehelm shook his head. "A few months ago we sent an expedition into the far eastern mines, a routine inspection to see if any were yet ready for mining. I was part of the expedition myself and we found…we found a child, not ten winters old. The poor thing was unconscious, skinnier than a starved elf…there were scars all over his body, his hair was shaved… We brought him back to the healers but he was burning with fever. He spent one more night on this earth, calling out for his dead mother and muttering about goblins and monsters before he was finally granted some peace. The worst part was that he had already died."

"What?" Thorin's frown deepened.

"Two months before, he had caught the sickness and he had died." Thorin Stonehelm announced gravely.

Silence descended on the whole table for a long moment.

"Who was he?" Dori asked quietly.

The young Thorin looked at the guard by the door who blinked shakily, his stoic mask he had been trained to wear by Dwalin cracking as he cleared his throat.

"My son, Oden." The guard's voice wavered.

"Oden?" Dwalin looked horrified and the guard nodded, regaining his composure as quickly as he could. Dwalin cursed under his breath.

"I take it you searched further into the mines?" Thorin looked away from his childhood friend towards the younger Thorin.

"Of course, but we found nothing. It was as if he had sprung back from the earth. There were a few side tunnels but we could not search them – they were too small and too delicate. That was when we sent word to Ered Luin to see if they had heard of this…disease but you know how that turned out."

"Why Alfr and Vidar?" Nori asked gruffly.

"Because we needed messengers who could get to Ered Luin unseen. We did not want our message intercepted and they were…we thought they were the best people to do it. They volunteered."

Nori nodded and swallowed painfully before his eyes lit up. He looked at Bilbo thoughtfully. "How delicate were the tunnels?"

"No dwarf beyond ten or eleven winters could enter without being in substantial danger."

Bilbo understood exactly where Nori was going and nodded slowly. "Perhaps…I would have to see the tunnels before I could say for sure but…"

"What?" The two Thorin's asked at the same time, and Nori spoke up.

"Our burglar may be able to help."

Thorin Oakenshield's eyes narrowed. "Really?"

"I can't promise anything but we may be able to get into the tunnels safely and have a little look." Bilbo offered. "If you wanted."

"Could you go unseen without that ring of yours?"

Bilbo looked affronted. "You think that I can only sneak around with that thrice cursed ring? I thought you knew more about hobbits by now. Not to mention Frodo snuck across Mordor unseen with said ring in his pocket."

"That may work…" Thorin Oakenshield nodded, before sighing. "Though when we reach Erebor you are no longer bound to us by the Blessing."

Bilbo waited. "And…? That makes no difference to me, Thorin. I'm not the type of hobbit to turn his back on his friends in a crisis."

Both Thorin's smiled, along with half of the table.

"If we rest here tonight, would it suit you to journey to Erebor with me tomorrow morning?" Thorin Stonehelm asked politely.

"It would indeed." Thorin nodded, and Bard gave a little smile.

"I will inform the staff to make up some rooms for you."

"Thank you." Thorin bowed his head thankfully to the King who stood up.

"During your time in Dale you can explore to your hearts' content, feel free to wander wherever you chose – within the limits of the law of course." He ended his welcome with a smile and left the room.

Thorin spent the rest of his afternoon in talks with the younger Thorin, discussing the running and condition of Erebor and various political situations while most of the company went their own ways, making use of the free reign given to them by Bard.

Thorin, Fíli and Kíli, once again heirs to the throne of Erebor, were given the highest quality residence that Bard could offer, and the rest of the company were not far behind. Sleeping once again in a bed in a room on his own was a very strange experience for Thorin, an experience that did not feel quite right.

Even so, it did not take long before he drifted off to sleep.

_"Adad?" _

_"Yes, Thorin?" _

_"Why is the throne so big?" Thorin asked, staring up at the throne that towered so high above him. _

_"Because it is very important." Thráin explained, lifting the child onto his hip so he could see the top of the throne clearer. _

_"I thought it was just a chair." Thorin put his thumb in his mouth. _

_"The throne is where the king sits, Thorin." _

_"The leader of eberybody." _

_"Take your thumb out of your mouth and speak properly, Thorin." His father chided mildly. "But yes, the leader of everybody. Who is the king of Erebor?" _

_"Dadad!" Thorin cried happily and Thráin laughed his deep laugh. _

_"Or?" _

_"King Thror." Thorin sang dutifully. _

_"This throne will belong to you one day." Thráin mused to the child on his hip. _

_Thorin pouted. "But I don't want it!" _

_Thráin looked shocked. "Why not?" _

_"It's too big!" Thorin protested. "And I don't want to lead people!" _

_"Well what do you want to do?" Thráin frowned. _

_Thorin sighed wistfully. "I want to be a gardener." _

_Thráin almost dropped his seven year old son in shock as he spluttered. "A gardener?" _

_"Yes…" Thorin supressed a giggle at the look on his father's face. "I want to plant flowers and skip around singing songs in the sunlight and-"_

_"No, no, no!" Thráin stammered, and Thorin giggled. _

_"Not really Adad. But I really don't want the throne. I want to be a guard." _

_Thráin looked a little mollified – though only a little. "A guard?" _

_"Yes. They catch bad dwarves and nasty elves and they get to fight all the time if they want to. They have the biggest weapons and all the women like them." Thorin nodded to finish off, putting his thumb in his mouth again. _

_"Have you been speaking to Fundin again?" Thráin frowned. _

_Thorin shrugged, playing with his father's beard. _

_"Well you have to take the throne, Thorin. You are my eldest son." _

_"So?" _

_Thráin sighed. "So you have to take the throne. That's the way things work." _

_Thorin huffed. "Well I think that's silly. I don't _want _the throne! Frerin can have the throne; Frerin's your son too!" _

_"Thorin, you are going to take the throne and that's that." _

_"No." _

_"Thorin." _

_Thorin pouted. "I'm going to be a guard." _

_"You're going to be a king." _

_"Guard." Thorin sang. _

_"King." Thráin corrected. _

_"Guard." _

_"King." _

_"Guard." _

"King!"

_Thorin spied an escape on the horizon. _

_"Mama!" he wailed, flying out of his father's grasp and into his mother's arms. _

_"Thráin?" she warned. "What did you do?" _

_"I –want-to-be-a-guard!" Thorin gasped between sobs. "And he-wants-me-to-take-the-throne! I d-d-don't want the stinky old chair – it's too b-big!" _

_Thráin rolled his eyes as his wife picked up their son and Thorin quietened. _

_"There there. You might want the throne when your bigger, Thorin." _

_"Will not!" Thorin protested stubbornly, spying his two year old brother trailing behind their mother on unsteady legs. "Frerin? Frerin, do you want a throne?" _

_"Th-o-in." Frerin smiled senselessly, falling onto his backside and babbling away in his own nonsensical language like any infant. _

_"That means he wants it. He can have the throne." _

Thorin woke up panting, though he was not sure why. The memory was a happy one, a memory that he had half forgotten.

He half wondered if he had made it up as he sat up in bed and ran his hands over his face. He had indeed wanted to be a guard when he was a child, and he had tried to give his throne to Frerin, but he was not sure that the dream was a memory.

Shaking thoughts of those he had lost from his head, Thorin swung his legs out of bed and went to open the curtains. The sun was shining and the morning had broken, so he decided to get dressed and seek out some breakfast.

The company joined him one by one and two by two at the table in one Bard's halls with one notable exception.

"Where's Kíli?" Frodo asked Fíli as he buttered his third piece of toast.

"Sleeping in, I suppose." Fíli shrugged as he grabbed a sausage.

Thorin nodded in response to the question Balin had asked him, re-joining the conversation. Kíli was fully capable of taking care of himself.

A few hours later Thorin went back to his room for his weapons and bags so they could prepare to leave, and on his way past decided to make sure that his sister-son was finally out of bed.

"Thorin?" Fíli frowned, appearing around the corner moments before he knocked.

"Ah, Fíli. I take it Kíli is up?"

"I was just coming to wake him – I haven't seen him." Fíli explained.

"Oh…" Thorin frowned, knocking on the door heavily. "Kí-"

The door swung open at Thorin's touch and Thorin and Fíli exchanged glances. Thorin strode into the room, fully ready to reprimand Kíli for sleeping in and leaving his door ajar when he froze. The entire room was a mess, and there was a small pile of blood next to the bed.

"Kíli?" Fíli yelled instantly as if he thought his brother was about to jump out of the cupboard. "Kíli, where are you?"

Thorin walked slowly to the bed where a small piece of paper lay, a message written on the white parchment as clear as day in crisp red writing.

_Dear Thorin,_

_I did give you a choice – which nephew you wanted to keep and I am not sure if you realise it but I did as you asked. _

_You chose this, not me; I want you to remember that. _

_The leader of the orcs behind you will be very happy to meet young Kíli. _

_Thank you for the spare. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Berr_

"Thorin, what is that?" Fíli asked in a carefully measured voice.

Thorin's world started spinning as he turned to look at Fíli.

"Uncle, what happened?" Fíli cried and Thorin stared down at the note dumbly.

Fíli ripped it from his hands, his lips mouthing the words as he read them. The colour drained from his face and he shook his head.

"No…" he whispered, "No, no, no, no, _no!" _

Thorin looked at his sister-son with horror filled eyes and Fíli shook his head again, his own eyes filling with tears.

"Please, Thorin, no…"

Thorin's heart took control of his body as let out his anger, grief, pain and fear in one load roar.

**Oooh, what's going on now? I wonder if anyone has any theories :P **

**Anyway, Thorin Stonehelm's reaction and Thorin 'choosing' between Fili and Kili were the two things I had planned from day minus one so I hope I wrote them well, as well as Bard II and Thorin Stonehelm. **

**Quick note to say that Dadad is what my friends called their grandfather and so I didn't think it was much of a stretch for dwarven children to call thier grandfathers that as an endering name but you never know :P And also I like the idea of little Thorin being stubborn and wanting to be a guard (which I kind of thought might be like kids wanting to be a policemen or something?) so anyway I hope you enjoyed it! **

**Thanks for reading :)**


	20. Chapter 20: The Dogs of War

**Thanks for my reviews! :) **

**Wow, twenty whole chapters! I cannot believe that this story has been seen over 10,000 times but it has! That is just incredible, thank you all so much. Seven more reviews and we'll hit one hundred on chapter twenty! I hope you are all loving this still as much as you were at the start and as much as I am - if not please tell me why and I'll do what I can to improve :) **

**Also, someone asked if Thorin Stonehlem was a real Tolkien character to which the answer is yes. Dain's son Thorin Stonehelm was Erebor's King after his father died :)**

**This next chapter is a little bit filler-y but does have quite a bit of angst! Sorry for any mistakes, but last night was the first I slept in 46 hours, having travelled all around the world and it's now late at night. My dog is yawning at me even but I forced myself to finish this for you (it's a hard life ;)) so my proof reading eyes may be a little blurry! **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty # The Dogs of War #**

_"Dogs of war and men of hate  
With no cause, we don't discriminate  
Discovery is to be disowned  
Our currency is flesh and bone  
Hell opened up and put on sale  
Gather 'round and haggle  
For hard cash, we will lie and deceive  
Even our masters don't know the web we weave  
One world, it's a battleground  
One world, and we will smash it down  
One world ... One world." Pink Floyd, The Dogs of War_

If it was not for Bilbo Baggins, the personal hell Fíli had been plunged into may have transformed into a political hell as well.

As soon as he discovered the letter, Thorin went on the rampage to track down King Bard II of Dale and interrogate him about his choice of escort with as much force as it took, but the company's resident burglar pointed out that getting involved in yet another political conflict with a whole city would not only prove very destructive for Thorin's life and reign as king (a minor issue at this point) but it would also not do Kíli any favours.

If Fíli could have fixed thought on anything but his missing brother, he would have thought it lucky that Bilbo had intervened, for as soon as Berr's name was mentioned, Bard II looked very confused.

"I did not send a man named _Berr_ to escort you into Dale." He said, perplexed, as he stared at the note before turning to his guard with an angry order. "I want to know _how_ this happened and I want to know _where_ Kíli is, right now."

"You-"

"That is what he told us his name was." Bilbo interrupted a fuming Thorin, who surprisingly let him continue.

"The man I sent goes by the name of Caden." Bard declared. "Rather short fellow, for a man, dark hair, blue eyes…?"

Bilbo shook his head at all the attributes Bard listed, sending a worried glance towards Fíli and the others. "No, no that wasn't him, that wasn't the man who met us."

Bard turned back to his guard. One of the men had already disappeared with his king's first set of orders but the next got ready to move as soon as he saw the look on Bard's face. "I want to know where Caden son of Coben is, and I want to know now!" when he turned back to Thorin, his eyes were burning. "I am so sorry that this has happened in my kingdom, under my watch. Any resources that can be spared will be at your disposal."

Fíli stared at the note he clutched so tightly.

_Dear Thorin,_

_I did give you a choice – which nephew you wanted to keep and I am not sure if you realise it but I did as you asked. You chose this, not me; I want you to remember that. _

_The leader of the orcs behind you will be very happy to meet young Kíli. _

_Thank you for the spare. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Berr_

The line that haunted him the most seemed burnt into his eye sockets.

_Thank you for the spare. _

_"In that case…you are the spare…" _

_"Who says he was joking? You _are_ the spare." _

Kíli knew he did not mean it. Kíli knew that Fíli was joking, of course he knew…

_"Oh, you wound me, brother!"_

The sarcasm had been so strong that Kíli must have known, he must have known that Fíli was only teasing, just like normal…

_You know, don't you Kíli? _

Fíli closed his eyes, willing his thoughts to fly to his brother, pretending that if he focused hard enough Kíli would hear the words he tried to send.

_I didn't mean it, Kíli…I'd give my life for you in a heartbeat, you know that don't you, you know that Kíli? Come home, Kíli, come home, come home, come home…_

"…be _doing _something, I will not just sit here like an idle drunkard while my nephew has been abducted!"

Thorin's angry statement was directed at someone else, but it had a knock on effect for Fíli, who tried to turn his thoughts to something useful. He was not doing Kíli any favours by moping in the corner.

Instead he thought of what could lead them to the villains that had taken his brother.

_The leader of the orcs behind you will be very happy to meet young Kíli. _

The latter part of the sentence sent chills down Fíli's spine, but he tried not to dwell on it.

The leader of the orcs that followed them… He had no idea who the leader could be. As Gandalf had so often said, it could be a new enemy, or it could be an old one.

If it was an old enemy, who had been raised from the dead? Bolg? Dare he even _think_ Azog?

Though he hated the thought of it, both Azog and Bolg made sense. Both had a particularly deep hatred for Thorin, and both had sworn to destroy the line of Durin, so both would be perfectly happy to see Kíli…

_He whirled in slow motion and horror as Kíli's chest was pierced by not one, not two, but four arrows at once. _

_As his little brother fell, all that Fíli could see was the fear in his eyes, all he could hear was the resounding echo of shock and pain that had filled Kíli's voice as he cried out. _

_"No!" Fíli cried as Kíli fell on top of Thorin, still trying to shield him. "Kíli, Kí-"_

_Shock filled him as an outstanding agony pierced his stomach. He looked down in shock at the spear thrust through his midsection. _

_He stumbled back, falling on top of his uncle, next to his brother. He turned his face towards Kíli, struggling to breathe. His little brother's eyes flickered with dazed recognition. _

_"Fí-li…" the younger brother whispered, the light fading behind his eyes. "Think that…'eaving home…bad…idea…"_

_"Hold…on, Kíli." Fíli's heavy words were automatic; he could feel himself fading fast. "F'r me… F'r Tho…rin…" _

_"Fíli?"_

_The world blurred and Fíli's hand unconsciously searched for Kíli's. "Mmh?"_

_"F'rgive me…" _

"No!" Fíli snarled aloud as the memory whirled in his brain.

The entire room turned and looked at him but he could not face their eyes, so full of confusion, worry and pity.

He just shook his head and started to stalk out of the room. "No."

"Fíli-" someone, possibly Bilbo, started, but the young heir was already out of the room.

Entering Kíli's room, Fíli looked around, before heading over to the far corner. Starting there, he searched every inch of the room, inspecting the dirt and damage in the hopes of finding any clues as to who could have taken his brother and where to.

_Why didn't you hear anything, you fool? A fight like this, you should have heard – No, I would have heard this…_

Fíli frowned, walking over to the wall. His room was right next door to Kíli's, and the walls where not very thick. If there was one person in the world that Fíli knew well, it was his brother, and he knew that if Kíli had fought, he would not have done it silently. .

_Woken by a nightmare, five year old Kíli flailed his arms around and screamed into the night. "Fee-ee! Fee-ee!" _

_Eyes widening as his was caught by their mother, twelve year old Kíli smiled sweetly, singing out quietly. "Fíli ..." _

_Squaring up against three older youths that had dared to mock his family, forty five year old Kíli threw punches and kicks, all the while yelling out - "Fíli !" _

_Stumbling drunkenly through the street, sixty year old Kíli staggered on, calling out as he tried to find his way home through the gloom. "Fíli ? Fíli ?" _

_Slashing his way through battalions of orcs, seventy seven year old Kilo struggled through a battle that he should not have been a part of, roaring battle cries in between his calls of "Fíli!" _

It was the way that both brothers worked – they fought their own battles but they always called for each other.

"Bilbo!" Fíli yelled, forcing himself to crouch down to inspect the blood on the floor. "Bilbo!"

In moments the hobbit was at the door with a shocked expression, Dwalin and Thorin at his heels.

"What's wrong?"

Fíli stood up, nodding to himself gravelly. "Where were you?"

"In the hall where you left us…" Bilbo frowned.

"Fíli, what do you know?" Thorin asked instantly, and Fíli looked up.

"I…" his eyes fluttered closed as he muttered the words he dreaded to say. "I don't think that Kíli fought back."

"What are you talking about, laddie? Look at the room!"

"Exactly." Fíli replied to Dwalin quietly. "Someone would have heard something – I would have heard, if Kíli had put up this sort of fight he would have called out, he would have… And we would have heard all of this, even if he had not, the crashing, the banging, there wasn't any!"

Thorin swallowed. "You may be right…"

"If he wasn't dragged out in a fight…" Dwalin trailed off.

Fíli knew that the options were limited, and they all forced a heavy weight onto his already heavy heart.

Option number one – Kíli had been somehow subdued into silence, perhaps by a knife to the throat or some such threat, and had been led silently out of the room by his captors.

Option number two – Kíli had been lured out of the room somehow, leaving on his 'own accord' only to be ambushed elsewhere.

Option number three – Kíli had been killed before he left the room.

In any scenario, the room would have been staged after the fact. While Fíli prayed for options one or two, a dark voice in his head told him that option number three was more realistic.

_Oh, Kíli…Where are you? _

"Thorin!" Bofur ran towards them. "There's a man, just come into the hall-"

"Tell me why it is so important, Bofur!" Thorin snapped, his patience almost non-existent.

Unperturbed, Bofur looked at Fíli. "It's Berr."

In an instant they were back in the halls and Fíli lunged at the familiar man who was lounging comfortably in a chair.

"Fíli, stop!" several voices called, but Fíli was seeing red.

He did not see the knife in the man's hand, and he did not see the hooded figure whose neck was being threatened by said knife.

As Dwalin grabbed him from behind Fíli struggled violently.

"Get _off _me! What did you do to him, _what did you do to him?"_

"Calm down, Fíli." Berr drawled lazily. "I might have to cut this here child's throat, and you wouldn't want that, now, would you?"

Fíli just growled from Dwalin's iron grip like an animal, rage blinding reason as he strained to rip the man's eyes from his face.

"Now, the only reason I am here is because it is my job to be here. The only reason I am in this, lovely chair, is because if one person so much as touches me, I will kill this boy and I will never ever tell you the message I was bidden to bring." Berr grinned down at his, patting the hood that covered his trembling hostage's head and face.

"What message?" Thorin snarled, and to Fíli's disgust Berr laughed.

"You think that I would just tell you?" he laughed again. "Oh, Thorin Oakenshield, you could hold a knife to my throat for days, you could beg until your tongue fell from your mouth, you could cut off my limbs one by one but nothing could make me deliver my message before I want to. And I think that _you_ would want me to deliver the message – it does concern the wellbeing of your precious Kíli…"

"You – _argh!_" Unable to find an insult dark enough for the man sitting before him, Fíli just yelled, fighting Dwalin harder. "Let me _go, _I'm going to _kill him!" _

Thorin stood directly in front of him, blocking Berr from his sight. The soon-to-be King placed his hands firmly on Fíli's shoulders, his expression as stony as it was sympathetic.

"Pull yourself together, Fíli. If you cannot, then you will have to remain in your room-"

"What?" Fíli hissed venomously but Thorin continued.

"-where you cannot endanger your brother or anyone else any more than you already have!"

Fíli's bitterness faded away as quickly as it had infected him at Thorin's words and he felt himself go completely limp. Suddenly Dwalin was no longer holding him back, but holding him up.

Berr started to whistle cheerfully, staring right at Fíli and lighting his pipe.

_…already have…endanger your brother…already have…endanger your brother…already have…_

"Fíli!" Thorin shook him for a moment and Fíli blinked.

"I'm making things worse?" he whispered brokenly and Thorin's eyes closed.

"No, Fíli, no. But if you attack him now, you will, I promise you." Thorin's voice was too low for any to hear other than Fíli or Dwalin, and Fíli nodded, trying to stop shaking.

He did not know if it was the anger that shook his body, or if instead it was the fear or the guilt or the pain that caused every limb to tremble like a leaf in the wind.

"Y'alright, laddie?" Dwalin muttered as Thorin stalked back towards Berr.

Fíli nodded, feeling enough strength return to his legs for him to support his own weight. Gently, he shrugged Dwalin off, and the older dwarf let go, the mildness of the action signifying that Fíli was calm enough not to kill anyone right away.

Fíli watched the leader in Thorin take over, walking closer towards the man. "As much as I hate to admit it, you are right. We cannot touch you, we want…" he sighed, gritting his teeth together. "We _need _to hear your message. What do you still need the hostage for?"

"Oh, you want to play it this way?" Berr looked at Thorin in interest, pulling the knife back and forward across the hostage's throat and there was a small whimper, confirming Berr's claims that his hostage was a child, a young boy, though he appeared to be around two feet taller than most of the dwarves. It was hard to tell when he was crouched in a small ball. "That's…interesting. I was told that you were a selfish old turd, Thorin Oakenshield. I never expected you to be the type of dwarf to bargain for the freedom of a boy you barely know when your own sister-son's life is in jeopardy…I'm impressed."

Thorin grinded his teeth together but somehow managed to keep his cool. "Let the boy go and give us the message. Please."

"Would you beg for it?" Berr cocked his head like a dog, leaning forward with intensity burning in his eyes, the knife pressing deeper into the boy's neck, an animalistic whine emerging from the anonymous captive. "Would you beg on your hands and knees for me to tell you what you want to know?"

"Would it help?"

Berr laughed. "Would it? Oh, I like this game!"

"I'm not playing a game." Thorin shouted, before taking a deep breath.

"Pity…" Berr stared at the knife in his hand with interest. "Though I suppose you are right. I don't have any need for him anymore."

He drew the knife back and then swung it down in a trained and powerful arch that had one purpose

"Wait!" Thorin yelled, and Berr froze a fraction of a second before his knife plunged into the boy's exposed neck.

"What for?" Berr looked curiously at Thorin.

"You need not kill him!" Thorin insisted. "Let him go!"

"Why would I simply let him go?" Berr said, baffled. "He is my prize, my token of victory! I took him straight from the corpses and the injured remains of his crushed people. Ah, the sound of that woman screaming for him-" he leant down to croon in the area where the captive's ear would be under the hood. "-was she your mother? Maybe your sister? I wonder what could have happened to her? Oh, she's almost definitely dead now. And oh, did she scream… This slave, Thorin, is proof that we are rising, that we are strong, that we will destroy you inside and out!"

Fíli watched in sickened horror as the man let out a deranged laugh.

_What is wrong with him? _

"No, no, Thorin, I cannot let him go. He is a token of my power, my prowess!"

Thorin clenched his teeth. "Who are you?"

"Just a man. Just a wandering man, long alone, who is finally following an interesting cause." Berr smiled, caressing the knife against the captive's neck once more.

"What cause?" Thorin probed.

"The one that will be your end."

Chills ran down Fíli's spine and revulsion churned in his gut.

Berr shifted, the malevolent darkness shifting from his face to reveal the friendly-looking man they had met on the way to Dale.

"Though, even after all that, I still do need the boy. Getting out of Dale is not quite as easy as getting in, especially carrying a corpse. I would know all about that."

Fíli felt the roar of anger rip from his throat but he whirled around to divert his attack, trying not to allow the fury to possess him. They still needed the message.

Berr laughed delightedly at Fíli's obvious agony, and the first in line to the throne could see his uncle and king visibly trying not to lurch for the madman himself.

Then the man's face changed again and his sighed, standing up. "Alright, this may be incredibly fun but it's taking quite a while and I have a schedule to be working on." He cleared his throat. "So here is your message – the orcs following you have become an army, and orcs aren't their only followers, hence I'm here, and they intend to take up residence in Erebor. Unless you move your people aside they will all be slaughtered. And you will never see your nephew again. If he isn't dead already he will be soon. Alright, I think that's it-"

No one even tried to intervene when both Thorin and Fíli snapped, lunging for Berr with deadly fury.

Before either could touch the man, however, he whipped the knife away from the captive's neck and slashed it across his neck, all but beheading himself in a single power fuelled stroke.

"No!" Fíli yelled, thrusting his sword into the dead man's chest with fury, falling to his knees with the momentum of the movement. A sob broke from his lips and he felt Thorin's hand on his shoulder. Another broken sob burst from his lips and then another and another and then Fíli was crying openly, sobs pouring endlessly out from his broken heart. Thorin knelt next to him, this strong arm wrapping gently around Fíli's shoulders, pulling him close.

Fíli leant into Thorin's embrace, trying and failing to regain his composure, and Thorin's murmurs reached his ears in a way they not for years.

_"Shh, Fíli…Sh, I'll fix it. I'll do whatever it takes, Fíli, just shh." _

Thorin used a tone long since forgotten, the tone that ushered the nightmares away, the tone that soothed the hurt little child, the tone that lulled the brothers to sleep…

The tone of before…

Legolas bowed his head at the grief of Kíli's family but moved slowly forward towards the undoubtedly terrified captive who was still crouching by the chair.

"You are safe now," he assured, bending down and removing the hood. The young boy was gagged, his cheeks were puffy and tearstained but his terror filled eyes were startlingly familiar. "Caver?"

The boy whimpered in affirmation, shying away from Legolas when the elf reached over to take away the gag.

"It's alright…" Legolas assured the young skin changer, carefully easing at the rope around the boy's flinches.

"Caver…" Frodo walked forward, dismayed to see his young friend, though he had never seen him in human form before.

The skin-changer cried out softly as the elf removed the gag and the rope binding his hands, leaning as far away from Legolas as he could.

Sensing Caver's fear, Legolas backed away and motioned for Frodo to come closer, remembering how attached the dog had been to the hobbit. Frodo carefully advanced towards the boy, who shuddered, looking on the verge of a transformation.

"What happened to you?" Frodo asked in concern. "What was he talking about?"

"I…I…" Caver sniffed tearfully, his eyes on Fíli and Thorin. The blond dwarf was stills squeezing his eyes shut and leaning into Thorin, but his uncle was staring at Caver with an unreadable expression. "They…there were so many of them!"

He squeezed his own eyes shut tightly.

"When?" Frodo queried, putting a hand on Caver's shoulder hesitantly. When the boy flinched Frodo took his hand away but the young skin-changer grabbed onto it tightly and Frodo gave a wry smile.

"Af…after you left. Th-there was…they came…we thought there were eighty." He gave a little sob, opening his big dark eyes to look at Frodo. "We thought there were eighty! But there were more, there were more!"

"Alright…" Frodo said in his most soothing voice, automatically glancing at Bilbo for reassurance.

"How many more?" the older hobbit asked kindly.

"We were outnumbered." Caver whispered with a tiny moan. "So outnumbered…"

Frodo swallowed. "How many of you were there?"

"We…we were three hundred."

"Three _hundred?" _Bilbo stepped forward and Caver winced.

"Y-y-yes, three hundred…the battle st-started and everything was burning, everyone was screaming and fighting and Am, Am dragged me away she told me to run and I ran, I did!" Caver's whispers turned into desperate cries. "I didn't see them come up behind me, they…they…caught me and dragged me back through the battlefield and everyone was dead or dying…A-A-Amalie…she started sc-screaming when she saw they had me but it didn't do anything!"

"It will be alright…" Frodo promised vainly.

"That m-man…" he nodded at Berr. "He t-took me and tied me up between Lake T-Town and Dale and left me there for days. L-last night he c-came back, with some others, some other orcs and…"

"And who?" Bilbo pressed.

Once again, the boy flinched away from the older hobbit and directed his answer to Frodo. "Kíli was there."

"You've seen Kíli?" Frodo asked quickly and Caver nodded.

Fíli's head snapped up and Thorin's mouth dropped open a fraction.

"He was asleep but he was alive, I'm sure of it. But as soon as he got there Berr dragged me b-back here." Caver shuddered.

"Could you take us back to where they took you?" Thorin asked fervently.

Caver shook his head, going completely pale. "No, I can't go back there!"

"Kíli's life may depend on it." Frodo stepped in between the young skin-changer and Thorin's viscous reply.

"I didn't want to talk to you as a human." Caver's words shocked Frodo to silence and the child continued. "I thought it might be different. It is with most people."

"Be…different how?" Frodo frowned deeply.

"I trust you." Caver said simply, though his eyes were heavy. "I don't know why but I do."

Taking a shaky breath, Caver looked at Fíli, who was staring at him imploringly, Thorin, Dwalin and Glóin who were all glaring, Bofur, Nori, Ori, Dori, Legolas and Bifur, whose eyes showed nothing but sympathy, and Balin, Bombur and Óin who were all looking elsewhere.

He looked at the older hobbit, Bilbo, whose expression was a mixture of pity, fear and anger.

He looked at Frodo. It was true, he did not know why he trusted Frodo. He just did.

Taking another deep breath, Caver bit his lip and looked up at all of them.

"I can't show you, b-but, I can try to take you…as a dog…I can try…"

"Thank you." Frodo and Bilbo breathed in unsion, and Fíli croaked the same words a moment later.

_No! You can't go back, not there! They'll hurt you again, they'll hurt you and kill you and kill everyone and – _

Caver shut out the loud voice in his mind with a swift shake of his head.

He had not been able to tell the company all that had happened. He did not know words to express the horror that he had experienced – seeing his friends die before his eyes, tasting the burnt and bloodied dirt as he was thrown to the ground, hearing Amalie scream desperately for him as the orcs dragged him away, smelling his own blood as pain shot through his body…

His world had burned, and in the words of Berr he now belonged to a 'crushed people'.

Caver had wanted to fight back before, but he had not known what the orcs would do, nor had he known what men like Berr were capable of. He had not known what death would look like, or smell like or taste like or sound like.

Now that he knew, Caver was ready to help Frodo and his friends.

Transforming in record time, Caver wagged his tail half-heartedly and nudged Frodo's hand. With a short bark, he told the company one thing.

He was ready.

**Berr is supposed to be a psycopath which hopefully explains his weird character, I don't know if I did it has been a hard chapter to write, not least because I am EXHAUSTED!**

**It has happened before in this story, but I hope any OOCness from Thorin or Fili is justified by the situation?**

**And feel free to point out any mistakes - I am tired so I've probably missed a few**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading, please review - if I could get one hundred views in twenty chapters that would make my week :) Thanks! **


	21. Chapter 21: Somewhere

**Wow, 100 reviews! Thanks, I love all of you guys :) It's been really nice to hear your feedback because my life has just gone crazy again with starting the last year of school and my lil dog having an operation :( so thank you! This one's been a while in the coming but it should be pretty good for you, I've struggled with knowing how to get to where I want to go with this but I'm pretty sure I'm on track now. **

**I have to go to school like, now, so I hope there are no mistakes (like Kilo in the last chapter, sorry :P) and I really hope you enjoy :D**

**As a sidenote – I wrote this to many songs but one, called Two Little Boys by the Irish Rovers (which may well pop up later coz I love it!) fits really really well to Fíli and Kíli in my mind, so give it a listen on the old YouTube :)**

**Read. Enjoy. Review.**

**Chapter Twenty One # Somewhere #**

_"Lost in the darkness  
Hoping for a sign  
Instead there's only silence  
Can't you hear my screams?  
Never stop hoping  
Need to know where you are  
But one thing's for sure  
You're always in my heart_

I'll find you somewhere  
I'll keep on trying  
Until my dying day  
I just need to know  
Whatever has happened  
The truth will free my soul

Lost in the darkness  
Tried to find your way home  
I want to embrace you  
And never let you go  
Almost hope you're in heaven  
So no one can hurt your soul  
Living in agony  
Cause I just do not know  
Where you are" Within Temptation, Somewhere 

When Kíli woke he was blind. The iron taste of blood filled his mouth and his head was spinning, but try as he might when he opened his eyes, he could see nothing.

His hands were bound behind his back, so tightly that it was a wonder they had not dropped right off, so calling for help was probably not the best option. Praying that a blindfold was the source of his sightlessness, Kíli opted instead to keep quiet, shuffling around on the floor to try and discern where he was.

"E's awake…" a rough voice crooned and Kíli froze.

"Ah, welcome, Master Kíli…" another voice laughed coldly, and several other voices joined in the laughter.

Kíli's blood ran cold as he recognised the callous cackles of orcs and goblins amongst them.

"Don't be rude, Rulg!" the first voice crooned again. "Master Kíli indeed. This is _Prince _Kíli of Erebor, second in line to the throne."

Cheers echoed off the walls of whatever space Kíli was lying in and he struggled against his bonds fearfully. A clawed hand found its way to his neck and started to choke him and he instantly kicked out viciously, fighting ever harder.

"My dear Prince, stop struggling or my hand will be replaced with a knife." The other voice, apparently belonging to one called Rulg, whispered dangerously.

Kíli stilled himself with an inconspicuously deep breath, straining to hear for any clues as to where he was.

"He doesn't speak." Rulg sounded disappointed and Fíli's voice popped into his head unannounced.

_He doesn't speak? Are you talking about the same Kíli, he never shuts up! _

Kíli swallowed. Since the Blessing had struck, he had never left his brother's side, with the exception of a short time in Goblin Town and obvious occasions such as bathroom breaks. Feeling like an infant pining for its mother, Kíli yearned for Fíli's comforting presence before scolding himself. He was glad that Fíli was not here, because Kíli was in an undoubtedly unfortunate predicament, it seemed, and Fíli was safer elsewhere.

"Oh mighty prince?" the first voice called gleefully. "We have a surprise for you, your majesty!"

Even though he knew that his captors were using the terms sarcastically, Kíli still did not feel as though the titles belonged to him. Prince, indeed. The last time he had been a 'prince', he had been eight years old.

_"No way, Fee." _

_"Aw, come on, Kíli!" his brother called imploringly. _

_"Na uh." Kíli shook his head and folded his arms. _

_Fíli put his hands on his hips. "Kíli…" _

_Kíli mimicked the gesture. "Fíli…" _

_"I was Azog _last _time, Kíli, it's only fair-"_

_"You were not!" Kíli gasped, appalled. "I always have to Azog and I'm not going to no more. If I'm not Uncle Thorin then I'm not playing with you!" _

_Fíli wrinkled up his nose distastefully. "That's just babyish." _

_"Babyish?" Kíli blinked. "No, it's blackmail." _

_Fíli laughed out loud. "You're so silly, Kee." _

_Kíli scowled, rolling his fists into balls. "I am not!" _

_"Whatever." Fíli rolled his eyes. "Now, you be Azog-"_

_"I'm serious, Fíli!" Kíli growled. "I don't wanna be Azog." _

_"Stop being such a baby and listen!" Fíli snapped but Kíli let out a yell and launched at his brother. _

_To their misfortune, Kíli chose to attack the same moment that their Balin entered for their daily tuition. _

_"Lads! What on earth are you doing?" _

_They both scrambled to their feet and glared at each other, neither brother willing to tattle. _

_Balin sighed and raised an eyebrow. "I'll tell you what, if you tell me what happened I won't tell your mother that the pair of you were brawling." _

_"Really?" they looked at each other and then began talking at twenty five miles an hour "Kíli hit me-" _

_"Because Fíli called me a baby-" _

_"Because he said he wouldn't play if he wasn't Uncle Thorin-"_

_"I'm always have to be Azog and I _hate _being Azog!" _

_"Which isn't tr- wait!" Fíli looked at his brother. "You can say "I'm always Azog" or you can say "I always have to be Azog", but "I'm always have to be Azog" makes no sense." _

_"Oh, thank you Fee." Kíli nodded, storing the knowledge away for later. _

_"You're welcome. And you're wrong." _

_"I am not!" _

_"Are too!" _

_"Am not!" _

_"Are two!" _

_"Lads!" Both boys turned to Balin who was watching with a look of pure amusement on his face. "You want to play out a battle?" they both nodded eagerly and the old dwarf smiled. "Why don't you play out a different battle?" _

_"A different battle?" Fíli blinked. _

_"Aye…you could re-enact the Siege of Barad-Dŭr…" _

_Kíli later realised that Balin had found a way of teaching the boys their daily history lesson with total certainty of their complete attention, but the eight year old and thirteen year old sensed only the story, sitting down instantly with their best listening faces on._

_As soon as Balin had finished retelling a somewhat condensed and censored version of the War of the Last Alliance, the boys burst to their feet. _

_"For a story with not so many dwarves that's a good one." Kíli smiled at their teacher before turning to Fíli. "I wanna be Izzy-door!" _

_"Isildur." Balin corrected gently. "The son of the great King Elendil." _

_"Prince Isildur…" Fíli tried out the name on his brother and then grinned. "I'm gonna be Sauron!" _

_"Make it historically accurate, laddies, then it's part of your studies." Balin noted and Kíli nodded seriously. _

_Uncle Thorin did not like it when they played out real battles, and Mama always said to never _ever_ play the Battle of Moria when he was around. This was strange to Kíli – Uncle Thorin was always the _hero _of their games, and he could not understand what it was his uncle hated. Though Kíli was not sure why, he did notice that whenever he witnessed their games Thorin would go very quiet and sad, or he would ask them to stop because they were making too much noise or they were going to break something. _

_The eight year old could not remain serious for long. "I'm gonna bite your fingers off!" _

_"He didn't bite them, he slashed them with a broken sword." Fíli corrected. _

_Kíli rolled his eyes with a sigh. "I know but I don't have one! I don't have any sword so I'm impoverishing." _

_Balin laughed merrily. "You mean improvising, and very well I might add." _

_Kíli beamed at the praise and the two boys started to wrestle around on the floor. That evening, like most evenings, Kíli was most definitely not ready for bed. Bouncing up and down on the mattress he turned to his mother. _

_"Mama? Am I a prince?" _

_"Well, I suppose so, yes." Dís sighed, her nose scrunching up as she pulled out a crust of bread from under Fíli's pillow. _

_"Really?" Kíli asked enthusiastically. _

_"Yes, really. Your Uncle is the King-In-Exile of-"_

_"Erebor!" the two boys chorused and Dís laughed. _

_"Exactly. But he's not a proper king because he has not got a kingdom. You are his heirs so in a way you are princes-in-exile, but I'm not sure that that is a real term." _

_Kíli considered this. "I'm not gonna be a prince until we get Erebor back. Then I'll be the bestest prince ever with the bestest beard ever, but until then I'll just be Kíli. I'd rather be just Kíli than a prince without a princedom. I mean kingdom." When he looked up at his mother he gasped. "Mama, why are you crying?" _

_"I'm not." Dís insisted, blinking away the ghostly moisture in her eyes and tucking the blankets up under Kíli's chin and planting a kiss on his head. "You'll always be a prince to me." _

_Kíli giggled and squirmed as she tickled him and kissed him again, before repeating it all with Fíli. _

_"Goodnight my little princes." She called from the doorway. _

_"Goodnight Mama." They called sweetly and the door closed. _

_"Prince Kíli…" the words sounded alien on his tongue, but good alien. _

_"We'll get there one day, Kee." Fíli breathed. _

_Like so many other nights of his blissfully ignorant childhood, on that warm spring night Kíli smiled himself to sleep. _

Well, now he was a prince for real, as his captors were kind enough to count out. Though, saying that, was it official yet? Thorin Stonehelm had denounced the throne to hand it over to his uncle, but had neither had had a coronation. Maybe he was not technically a prince yet.

It did nothing to help his predicament but Kíli could not help but wonder where exactly the two Thorin's were with the formalities. Speaking of the younger Thorin, since when had Stonehelm had that great a beard?

It was just not fair; Kíli's beard somehow did not want to grow-

_Snap out of it! _A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Thorin scolded. _If you want to make it out of here alive you need to keep your wits about you, not reminisce about childhood like a nostalgic old woman!_

Kíli steeled himself, trying to tune back into whatever conversation he had been ignoring. He wanted to live so badly. Dying again would be just awful, especially now, when they were so close to Erebor again, and when he was yet to grow an actual beard.

_Kíli…_The voice chided and Kíli felt a little sheepish. _Sorry… Wait, now I'm apologising himself. Great, so I've been captured by what sounds like orcs and I'm already starting to go mad… _

"Answer me!" Rulg's yell connected with his ears in the same moment the man's – or maybe orc's – foot connected with his gut and Kíli tensed, refusing to make a sound. "Do you think your brother would prefer to receive your ear or your finger?"

Kíli's stomach lurched and he kept his mouth shut, partly due to his inherited stubbornness but largely because he was afraid to answer the question.

The foot smashed into his gut again and again and Kíli grunted, but no other noise escaped his lips and despite it all, a tiny bit of pride warmed his heart.

"Fine, riddle me this my dear Prince." The first voice chanted, sounding dangerously close to his ear and laughing when the young dwarf flinched away. "Would you prefer your brother to die by his knives or your arrows?"

Low jeers met his ears and Kíli tried to keep silent again, but his captors had had enough and something that felt suspiciously like a club crashed into his groin. Agonising pain shot through the lower half of Kíli's body and a scream ripped its way out of his mouth before morphing into a pained groan.

"Rulg, we got the signal!" A new voice yelled. "It's time to move!"

"Get up!"

A hand grabbed Kíli by the scruff of his neck and his feet kicked above the floor for a moment before he was roughly set down on his feet again. Harsh hands pushed him forward and he stumbled forward obediently, only to trip over a branch of sorts and crash straight back down onto his face to the soundtrack of cackling orcs.

"I said get up, scum!" Rulg rumbled, dragging Kíli up by his hair this time, making the proud dwarf hiss with pain.

This time the sharp tips of swords pressed Kíli onwards and he tried to watch his step, wishing he was a hobbit or some other nimble creature. Then he would not stumble over his own big feet even with the blindfold. A low buzzing noise neared his face and Kíli shook his head to scare the insect away, and something gently hit the side of his face.

His frown deepened as he wondered what it could be, but when he realised that the clasp usually drawing his hair away from his face was dangling by a single lock and colliding with his neck and chin as he walked, Kíli had a thought.

Lowering his head to the side, Kíli made a point of scratching his shoulder with his chin, inconspicuously pulling the clasp free of his hair and letting it fall to the floor with a mixture of triumph and sorrow. As much as it hurt to leave the last thing his mother had ever given him behind, if anyone was tracking them, if there was the slightest chance of rescue, Kíli's clasp would confirm his presence with this band of ruffians, an idea he had admittedly stolen from the youngest hobbit of the Fellowship.

_According to him, he has stolen many a prank from Fíli and I before so it's only fair…_

_Stop getting side tracked! _The Thorin-like voice in his head was practically crying with frustration. _Concentrate, Kíli! _

Kíli shook his head again and staggered on. To his dismay, that was how he spent the next day or two, he was unsure how much time passed exactly. His only indication of time passing at all was the apparent darkening of the world behind the blindfold that was now protecting the upper part of his nose and face from the wind that bit his chin and lower cheeks, as well as the tip of his nose.

As he walked his legs did not ache, he was too used to walking for that. No, the walking was not a problem for Kíli. Unlike a hobbit or a man, Kíli's lips did not crack in the face of the bitter winds and he did not shiver and try to bear the cold. Though winter was settling in it was not cold, not for a dwarf of Durin's folk.

What made Kíli shudder and try and retreat into himself was the strange emptiness he felt. The fact that he was in mortal danger put aside, being alone was not a thing Kíli was used to anymore and he did not like it.

_"Kíli? Kíli?" _

_The adolescent dwarf groaned, dropping out of the tree in front of his panicking brother. "What now?" _

_Fíli looked affronted. "I've been looking for you everywhere, I don't know what you thought you were doing! Dwalin-"_

_"Wants us to train twice a day, yes I know." Kíli snapped, snatching up his bow and storming back up the mountain towards their home. _

_"What's wrong with you?" Fíli snorted, throwing his arm around his brother. _

_The look of surprise on Fíli's face when Kíli flung his arm off was almost enough to make Kíli feel guilty. "I want some personal space, Fíli! I want some time to just be on my own and think!" _

_"You want what?" _

_"I want to have some time to think my _own _thoughts, Fíli. I like being alone sometimes." Kíli added softly. _

_"Alright." Fíli's voice was just as soft. "I'm sorry." _

Back then, there were days when Kíli would have given his bow for a little time to sit with himself and be alone with his thoughts but now… Now Kíli would give anything for that lack of privacy, for the constant presence of another bothering him to high heaven.

Being alone with his thoughts was not all it was cracked up to be, either. Without the silently reassuring presence of his brother, uncle, or any member of the company for that matter, there was nothing to stop Kíli's fears festering and growing in his head to manifestations that were out of his control.

_Not to mention the moment that you're actually alone with your thoughts your subconscious starts arguing with itself. _

_Oh, grow up, Kíli. _

_You just proved my point. _

An unnoticeable smirk twitched across Kíli's cheeks for a second and he pressed on, walking until he was thrown to the floor.

The blindfold was ripped away from his face taking several strands of hair with it and Kíli hissed, glaring up at his captors with the fiercest glare that he could muster.

"You look just like your uncle." Rulg snorted, and the crude name suited the face it appeared to belong to.

_You are a very unfortunate man, _Kíli thought, taking in the man's clumsy, lumpy features, pockmarked complexion and disgusting haircut, though out loud he replied in a steely tone. "Good."

"Are you proud of him?" the crooning voice belonged to – to Kíli's surprise – a tall blonde man, with hair so fair it was almost white. "You shouldn't be. He's a greedy swine. Don't you agree?"

Kíli spat at the man's feet in response, and the blonde seized a handful of Kíli's hair and dashed his face against a nearby tree.

Moaning in pain, Kíli listened intently to the man's infuriated hiss.

_"You listen to me, boy. You are only alive now because I say so, so don't push your already dwindling luck." _

Kíli nodded curtly, studying the man's face with distaste.

"I preferred it when he could not see anything."

_"No…" _a sickeningly familiar voice growled. _"I want him to see me when I kill him. I want to send his head to Oakenshield on a pike, my image burnt into his horrified little eyes." _

_Lovely. _Kíli thought, his heart sinking faster than Bilbo without a boat. _That's a horrible analogy…_

_Oh for the love of Durin, Kíli, now is not the time for this! _

As the speaker came into sight Kíli's knees felt strangely weak and a flurry of thoughts dizzied him for a moment.

_Please no, not again, I don't want to die again, not again, not again! _

_Fíli, I'm in big trouble, oh, Fee…_

His mother's face flashed before his eyes, followed by the faces of the entire company and the people he had befriended along the way; Gandalf and Beorn, Merry and Pippin, Grimbeorn and Amalie, that silly little dog… The faces of his childhood friends, many long forgotten, joined the more recent acquaintances, and in the span of a few seconds the face of every being Kíli had ever liked or loved pushed its way to the forefront of his mind.

Of all the faces, the faces of the company lingered, joined by his mother as he remembered her – laughing lightly – and two figures who stood in front of the rest.

Thorin.

Fíli.

It was these images alone that swam in his mind as Kíli, son of Dís, daughter of Thráin, son of Thror, was forced to lay his head on a nauseatingly bloody rock and stare into the eyes of Azog the Defiler as the loathed enemy of his people brought his mace crashing down towards his head.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Caver whimpered as they drew closer to what had obviously been a camp as recently as the night before.

Legolas let out a low curse as he observed the litter and tracks left behind, his cheeks flaming red with anger that none of the others had never seen before as he examined something on the floor.

"What? What do you see?" Thorin demanded, and the elf turned to him with burning eyes.

"There was an elf here. The tracks indicate that he was not one of the prisoners."

A string of curses longer than Gandalf's staff erupted from Thorin's furious mouth and Legolas let him rant before adding –

"There were dwarves, too."

"So the only folk who have had none corrupted by these villains are the hobbits?" Bard II glanced at Bilbo and Frodo, and the former snorted humourlessly.

"Not even the most evil of hobbits I have ever heard of would have thought it worth any money, travelling so far from home." When he finished his angry declaration, Bilbo looked for Fíli, who was following Frodo looking very different from the confident young dwarf prince that had strode into his home so regally all those years ago.

In Bilbo's mind, Thorin's nephews had always been princes, though his being a hobbit meant that his application of the title to the boys stemmed more from his admiration for their spirits and respect for their talents and heritage than from their formal positions in society. Back on the original journey, Bilbo's hobbit mind had simplified matters significantly – Thorin was rightful king, therefore Fíli and Kíli were rightful princes. It had been much nicer to think of it like that – though Bilbo understood the politics well enough, he hated politics.

"They went this way." Frodo pointed out needlessly – the entire company could see the heavy tracks leading westward.

"Do we follow the tracks?" Bard queried and Thorin looked at him.

"We will follow the tracks until our search yields something, and though I greatly appreciate your help, should you wish to turn back you may." Despite the burning determination in his eyes Thorin's voice was monotonous.

Bard nodded respectfully. "I did not mean that I wish to turn back."

Thorin sighed and nodded, and Bilbo was thankful for neither the first nor last time that dwarves could not breathe fire like their scaly enemies.

A strangled cry from ahead a short while later had Thorin running to the front of the group to find Fíli trying to steady himself.

The blond held out a familiar metal clasp, crushed beyond repair by dozens of heavy feet.

"It's Kíli's."

"We're on the right track." Thorin swallowed gravelly. "We keep going."

They followed the tracks on horses and ponies for the rest of the day, until Caver started to howl pitifully at a huge, blood splattered rock. Smoke curled up into the air, the rancid smells of burning flesh filling the air as Frodo and Fíli went hesitantly to see what was upsetting the dog.

"We are being led somewhere." Legolas murmured to Bilbo uneasily. "I do not like it."

"What do you mea-" Bilbo's words were interrupted and his heart skipped several beats. "Oh, no, please no…"

Fíli's spluttered cry held more pain and fear than any noise the hobbit ever cared to hear, and he jumped off the pony thoughtlessly, running to the young dwarf's side with several others to see the cause of his distress.

Behind the rock Caver had stopped at was another rock, splattered with dry blood. An enormous pool of fresh blood lay on top, with flecks of what looked like brains, hair and bone showing up in the tacky liquid. A familiar bow, snapped clean in two, was nailed to the wall behind it, a single word behind it carved into the stone and outlined with blood.

Thorin fell to his knees next to Bilbo, his head hanging low against his chest at a time when the hobbit would most expect a roar. All of Thorin's rage had been spent, his anger having its only outlet in the expression of the intense grief swallowing his being.

The broken-hearted brother could have taken his turn to scream at the world but instead he whispered the name on the wall. He whispered it with the breathless torment only found in those who have lost the single most important thing to them in the universe.

He whispered it aloud, pouring into the word his grief, his anger, his fear, his hatred and his pain…

_"Azog…" _

**Duh duh duuuuuh! I hope you all enjoyed, please drop a review it would make my day!**

**BTW – in my headcannon Thorin does not like seeing the boys re-enact the battle of Moria when they were kids because of the memories it stirs. **


	22. Chapter 22: He's My Brother

**Thanks sooo much to everyone who reviewed, you guys are actually awesome! **

**Some parts of this chapter, especially at the beginning may be a little random apparently, but I promise you they will make sense! **

**Here I have mentioned a character called Beregond from the book of LOTR: ROTK. If you've read the book you know who he is (I love him :D) but if not don't worry, he basically just helps Pippin in Minas Tirith when he's lonely and afraid. **

**As ever sorry for any mistakes, do feel free to point them out :P**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty Two: He's My Brother **

_"The road is long  
With many a winding turns  
That leads us to who knows where  
Who knows where_

_But I'm strong  
Strong enough to carry him  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother_

_His welfare is of my concern  
No burden is he to bear  
We'll get there_

_For I know  
He would not encumber me  
He ain't heavy, he's my brother."_ _The Hollies, He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother_

In fifty years of service, Iorlas, gatekeeper of Dale, had never seen a stranger group pass through his beloved city's gates.

King Elessar himself had announced the arrival of his odd company, declaring his intentions of counselling with Bard regarding the army of orcs tearing through the north. As Iorlas would have expected, the king was accompanied by four armed guards.

A Mirkwood elf named Lorfiel was also with them which Iorlas judged a little odd, but it was the collection of halflings that downright baffled the ageing man. Hobbits were incredibly uncommon this far in the east - the two among Thorin Oakenshield's company being the first Iorlas had ever seen in his sixty seven years - yet now there were four more standing behind him, including a hobbit woman with a tiny bundle that he realised with a start was an tiny, tiny, baby - the infant was no longer than his hand.

The two younger hobbits introduced themselves as Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took, names that were vaguely familiar to him, and they both wore small swords in hilts on their belts. Intriguingly, Master Brandybuck was clad in the armour of an esquire of Rohan, while his companion bore the White Tree of Gondor on his chest.

The other male hobbit, Samwise Gamgee, was dressed far more simply, in a similar fashion to Thorin's hobbits, and he introduced the woman as his wife, Rose.

Iorlas took them straight to Berl, the king's most trusted advisor, leaving them in the younger man's thoroughly capable hands.

The visitors got straight to business. "May I ask where King Bard is?"

Berl bowed at Elessar's question and answered truthfully to one of Dale's most trusted allies. "A prince of Erebor was abducted last night from the city; My King is assisting the prince's kin in the search."

"A prince of Erebor?" Elessar frowned delicately and Berl nodded, fully aware that King Elessar was completely trusted by King Bard, despite the fact that they had only been acquainted recently.

"I believe that Gondor are aware of the Blessing of the Ancients bestowed on the company of Thorin Oakenshield...?" When the king nodded Berl continued. "After consulting with Thorin Stonehelm, it has been agreed that Thorin Oakenshield will retake his previous position as king under the mountain allowing Thorin Stonehelm to return home, to the Iron Hills. However, last night Oakenshield's younger nephew was kidnapped from these halls - there was unfortunately a hole in our guard - a hole which has since been filled, I assure you."

"Kíli's been kidnapped?" Peregrin Took clarified, looking rather upset.

"Indeed. The King set out with both Thorins, some guards and Oakenshield's company to search for him."

Elessar frowned deeply. "Please, tell me all you know. You need not worry about the information heard by the hobbits; I trust them more than many of my own men."

Berl bowed and complied, recounting all he knew from the company's arrival at Lake Town to Caver's solemn declaration that he would help them. By the time he had finished, deep frowns were carved into the faces listening to him.

"We should help...we should do...something!" Peregrin looked from his friends to the King of Gondor and back.

"I fear from what you have told us that our friends may well be walking into a trap." Elessar admitted, and the hobbit woman moaned softly, closing her eyes with a heavy sigh.

Her husband looked guilty and Berl wondered what had convinced Rose Gamgee to leave the safety of the Shire for such a journey, especially with an infant so young.

"Well then we _definitely_ have to do something." Meriadoc Brandybuck insisted.

The king nodded slowly. "It would be easy enough to follow them."

Berl cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My lord, Dale cannot provide any security outside of our borders-"

"I understand, sir, but I require no security for myself other than my guard. If I may have a moment to speak to my companions alone..."

"Of course." Berl bowed and waited by the door as the neighbouring king had a quiet discussion with the hobbits and the elf.

Then he addressed Berl with a serious countenance. "With you leave, I would have Sam and Rose remain here with Beregond here, while my other guards accompany Merry, Pippin, Lorfiel and I tracking the Kings Bard and Thorin…"

"Of course, my Lord." Berl bowed once more. "If it would suit you I can arrange for someone to bring some clean clothes and food to the room, and some fresh blankets for the little one."

"Thank you." Rose Gamgee spoke for the first time and her grateful voice was soft and strong at the same time. "It would suit us well."

"I hate to ask..." Peregrin asked Elessar sheepishly.

The king looked as if he wanted to roll his eyes as he threw the young hobbit an apple in the same causal manner one would throw a favourite dog a bone before Peregrin even finished his question.

Berl suddenly remembered where he had heard the names Brandybuck, Took and Gamgee. The group itself made a little more sense when he remembered that they had been travelling companions of Elessar before he had been crowned king.

As they left the halls a short while later, Berl wished them all the luck in the world.

His gut told him that they were going to need it.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

__Gimli watched Fíli with growing concern as they trekked onwards. His friend had become eerily unresponsive, stumbling inside of striding and staring at the ground instead of the sky. In fact the entire company had slowed, their earlier grim enthusiasm replaced by a blanket of lethargy.

Each step was accompanied by fear as one by one they stopped hoping to find a living Kíli and started dreading finding a corpse.

Frodo's sharp ears twitched suddenly and he looked over his shoulder. "Legolas, do you see anything? I hear horses…"

The elf turned at Frodo's query and frowned. "That's Aragorn!"

"What?" Gimli was baffled.

"He is riding this way with a guard and what appears to be... Lorfiel, Merry and Pippin?" Legolas sounded as confused as Gimli felt.

"What?" Thorin frowned.

"They draw closer; you should be able to see them any moment."

Indeed, a few moments later the horses drew into view and not five minutes after that a familiar dark haired man dismounted his horse with a bow. "King Bard, Thorin Oakenshield? I am-"

"Aragorn!" Gimli greeted, grinning with the spark of joy that his friend's presence had managed to light. "What're you doing here, laddie?"

"Helping." Gimli's heart warmed a little more when Merry replied sincerely from the horse he shared with Pippin before Aragorn could open his mouth.

"In any way we can. It's good to see you in one piece, Frodo." Added Pippin, and the king of Gondor looked up his companions with amusement.

"May I speak?" The hobbits both looked sheepish and Aragorn turned to Thorin.

"I am King Elessar of Gondor, known to my friends as Aragorn. I came to consult with King Bard regarding the orc army currently bypassing Mirkwood." Aragorn bowed his head at the king in question. "When we heard what had happened we rode out immediately."

From the look on his king's face, Gimli guessed that Thorin's lack of reply was largely down to the fact that he did not know quite what to say, and he knew that that was something the man could sympathise with.

Instead of replying verbally, Thorin bowed his head.

Caver, who had cowered behind Frodo as the newcomers had drawn near, snuck out from behind Frodo's legs to creep towards the horse Merry and Pippin rode, sniffing up towards them with interest. Pippin's toes curled and his legs automatically lifted into the air, wrapping around Merry like a child having a piggy back as he tried to avoid the dog's large sniffling nose.

"Pippin!" Merry complained, elbowing his younger cousin, embarrassed.

At that moment the horse turned its head towards the job with a snort of warning and Caver's hackles rose. He growled, and backed away behind Frodo again.

"This is Caver." Frodo introduced in an effort to break the silence.

"The skin-changer?" Aragorn clarified and the dog gave a bark of affirmation as it poked its nose around Frodo's leg.

Bilbo quickly explained the latest developments in the search, the blood and the name and Aragorn cursed in a very un-kinglike manner.

"Did you not get back to the Shire then?" Bilbo turned his attention to his young relations, who glanced at each other and began their story.

"We got back to the Shire alright, if a little late." Merry started, and in typical fashion Pippin interrupted, though his sombre face and tone were far from typical.

"We searched for you, Frodo, for days but we couldn't see any sign of you..."

"When we got back to the Shire we spread the word you were still with the elves and we waited for news for about two days..."

"Until Rosie went missing."

"Missing?" Frodo cried and his cousins nodded.

"The man that took her left a note. His name was Berr-"

"Berr?" Fíli's voice crackled with anger.

"Yes. And we've since heard what else he's done." Merry added darkly.

"What happened?" Frodo interrupted in concern.

"We followed the man's note to Bree and he underestimated the power of three angry hobbits trained to fight by some of the best lords in the world." Merry said with a look of grim satisfaction. "He was over-confident; he admitted some things that he probably shouldn't of."

Pippin sighed. "We already knew he had people watching the Shire, it was too dangerous to go back, so we thought the best thing to do would be to catch you up. We met Lorfiel crossing over the Misty Mountains and that sped the journey up far enough, and Rosie was amazing."

"Rosie?" Frodo blinked stupidly.

"Yes, Rosie." Merry repeated. "She travels better than Pippin does."

"You brought a pregnant woman with you?" Bilbo raised his eyebrows as his cousin struggled to voice the question. Most of the dwarves frowned at the hobbits and Legolas started a rapid conversation with Lorfiel in Sindarin.

Merry frowned. "Well we couldn't exactly send her back! Pip already said they were watching the Shire, she would've gotten hurt."

"What about the baby?"

At this Pippin smiled. "Eleanor Gamgee was born a week ago in Mirkwood and is currently in Dale with her mother, father and Beregond. We met Aragorn just before Lake Town."

"Beregond…The soldier that helped you in Minas Tirith?" Frodo recalled, and Pippin nodded.

"Anyway, we meant to tell you what Berr said." Merry looked at Pippin, whose face clouded over darkly as he took over the story once more.

"He said that his masters were afraid that Thorin Oakenshield's return to the mountain would cripple their system, and that to prevent that from happening they intend to crush each member of the company as completely as possible. He said that getting revenge was just a bonus, and that soon they would move to the next part of their plan."

"What was that?" Fíli, who had been listening with what little interest he had left, asked.

"We don't know. That's as much as we got out of him before he scarpered."

Silence descended over them and none questioned why the man had gone after the hobbits. For Bilbo Baggins, it was painfully obvious.

Merry and Pippin were Frodo's best friends long before last year – and their experiences had only dragged them closer and pulled Sam further into their little group. If Azog wanted to 'crush each member of the company', then little could hurt Frodo more than the loss of his friends and Bilbo, Legolas and Gimli would also have grieved deeply. It would have been an appallingly effective case of stunning four birds with one stone.

His own words to Frodo came back to him and he sighed.

_"This is getting to be a lot bigger than I ever hoped it would be, my boy."_

It was not fair.

All they wanted was to go home, each and every one of them, but no. The world would not let them just go home, that would be far too easy.

A little nagging voice in the back of Bilbo's head started to sing once more, a thought that had haunted him since Beorn's house.

_You don't have a home anymore, Bilbo Baggins. Bag End belongs to Frodo, your place is not in the Shire anymore. You wish for your place to be among the dwarves but it is not. You don't belong in a mountain, you don't belong anywhere. _

Bilbo banished the thoughts of self-pity. They would not help Kíli now. A sickening thought dissolved Bilbo's insides.

_Could _anything _help Kíli now?_

_~ The Hobbit ~_

He felt more like a corpse than a dwarf.

Kíli's head pounded heavily from the slight wound he had sustained when Azog had smashed the blunt side of his metal hand into the young dwarf's head, and he wished that the pale orc had just crushed him with the mace instead of simply scaring the life out of him. Chains, heavier than any chains he had ever felt before bound his hands and his feet, but they were irrelevant. Through all the pain Kili would not have been able to move if he had wanted to. His entire body was consumed furnace of agony, and every few hours his captors added more fuel to the fire.

For the first time since he came back to life, Kíli wished to be dead.

He had now suffered severe beatings and agonising burnings. Not an inch of his arms, legs or torso were unharmed, and tacky blood was caked over the side of his face.

Several times he thought that the end had finally come. An elf with a friendly countenance had laughed as he strangled Kíli with his bare hands, stopping only after the prince had lost consciousness. Another time it was a man who had used Kíli's chest as a seat, crushing the air out of his lungs and remaining there until Kíli lost consciousness once again. An orc had bitten into his arm, ripping out a hunk of his flesh and leaving it to bleed until Kíli was sure that the pain and the blood loss would kill him. Instead, the elf had bandaged it up and patted Kíli on the cheek condescendingly.

Thorin's voice and Fíli's had disappeared from his mind leaving him alone in the cold and the dark of the goblins' lair.

"Wake up, scum!"

Kíli could do nothing but moan as a metal toed boot smashed into his chest.

A few words of the black speech were uttered from Azog's disgusting mouth and the pale orc himself lifted Kíli from the floor by his hair, thrusting him into the arms of the elf that had strangled him.

With a cold laugh the elf cradled Kíli like a baby, dishonouring him and physically hurting him at the same time but Kíli was too tired to care.

"It is time." Azog breathed in the common tongue, brushing Kíli's hair from his face with the metal spike of his hand. The dwarf shut his eyes. "I am ready master."

"Good." A cold voice spoke with icy glee. "This is your moment, Azog. Relish it."

A rocking sensation informed Kíli that he was moving and light streamed onto his closed eyelids. He felt the sun on his face for what felt like a single moment an eternity, until the light was blocked by something and Kíli was plunged into cold darkness again.

"The King Under the Mountain returns to his throne…A proper welcome is in order…" Azog announced in his thick accented voice.

Kíli felt the cold metal spike against his cheek once more and the orc laughed, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"It seems that the _noble prince _of Erebor has given up."

_"No!" _Fíli's voice screamed, and Kíli forced his eyes open. The lack of sun had been caused by two giant rock walls on either side of him, but the sky was above – they were not in a cave.

About three hundred feet away stood blurred figures, one of whom he guessed was his brother, and Kíli's heart sank.

He did not want Fíli to see him die.

"F…" he breathed as he strained to see his brother's face one last time. "F'li…"

_"Kíli!" _Fíli's voice reached him again and he tried to reach out but he could not move, he was in too much pain.

"You are outnumbered, Oakenshield – you are doomed." Azog taunted, and Kíli heard his uncle's reply as if he were underwater.

"We will fight you all the same."

_Not for me! _Kíli thought desperately. _Don't get hurt, not for me! _

Battle cries sounded around Kíli's ears and suddenly he was thrown against the wall like excess rubbish. Though his vision was failing him Kíli tried to observe the battle around him. If half of the orcs, men and elves he had seen over his time in captivity were fighting, his friends would be outnumbered ten to one…

An unfamiliar horn blew in the distance and he could hear more fighters coming closer as a blond figure slashed his way towards him. Though he knew that they were probably enemies, he wished that they were allies. He did not want his friend to die.

"F'li…" he whispered, stretching out his hand as far as he could.

And then it happened.

An unavoidable sword crashed towards Fíli's exposed neck. Even as Kíli closed his eyes, his big brother fell to the floor and Kíli wanted to sob and scream and cry.

_No, no, no, Fíli, no, no-_

"Kee…?"

_No, Fíli, please no! _

"Kíli!"

_No please-"_

"Oh, please wake up, Kíli, don't be dead, don't be dead!"

_Fíli? _

Kíli's eyes flew open and his brother's tearful face swam into view. It was Fíli's hand that was stroking his hair away from his sweaty and bloody forehead. It was Fíli that was shielding him from the battle, it was Fili sobbing over him, Fíli was _here, _Fíli was fine…

"Oh, thank Mahal...I'll get you out of here, Kíli."

Kíli shook his head and forced his energy to his throat so he could speak. "Run…too late, too many…run."

Fíli shook his head and scooped Kíli from the floor, and soon Kíli was flying through the battlefield. It was all too fast for his pain-clouded eyes to see anything, but somehow Fíli carrying him hurt a lot less than the elf had. Safety, a feeling that had abandoned Kili for days returned to him as his brother weaved in between fighting warriors. He could hear more of his friends now, less of the orcs, and he realised that he and Fíli were being shielded as his brother fled from the battle to try and save Kíli's life.

Suddenly Fíli skidded to a halt and Kíli's eyes focused on the form in his way.

Azog.

Of course. It was always Azog.

A figure instantly stepped between the brother's and the pale orc, and Kíli watched Thorin raise his sword high.

"You may as well drop him now, dwarf. With those chains he is too heavy for you to get very far." Azog looked at Kíli and the weighted chains that hung around his hands and feet, and Fíli's reply rang louder than any battle cry Kíli had ever heard.

Kíli smiled and the world started to slip away. The last thing he saw was the look of shock on Azog's face as Thorin lunged towards him, and then the world went black.

He was not in pain any more, he could no longer see or hear the battle undoubtedly still raging around his body. All he could hear were the words Fíli had thrown at Azog, the words that had shocked the pale orc and warmed Kíli's slowing heart.

He would hold on now. The worryingly familiar signs of unconsciousness were all around him but he held on, clinging to life with the same strength with which he now clung to that once sentence.

_"He isn't heavy – he is my brother."_

**Aw, I hope that was as cute as it looked to me! Things may be a little complicated now but I hope it's not too much. Explanations will come, with more of this particular battle. Next chapter will be up as soon as I can get it written ;)**

**Please review, I hope you enjoyed it!**


	23. Chapter 23: The Light Behind Your Eyes

**Thanks so much for my lovely reviews, here's the next chapter up for you all! **

**As ever, forgive any mistakes!**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty Three # The Light Behind Your Eyes #**

_"So long to all of my friends,  
Every one of them met tragic ends,  
With every passing day,  
I'd be lying if I didn't say,  
That I miss them all tonight…  
And if they only knew what I would say, _

_If I could be with you tonight…  
I would sing you to sleep,  
Never let them take the light behind your eyes…  
One day, I'll lose this fight…  
As we fade in the dark, _

_Just remember you will always burn as bright." My Chemical Romance, The Light Behind Your Eyes_

Thorin stood between his nephews and his nemesis and listened to Fíli defying Azog with a mixture of pride and utter sorrow.

_"He isn't heavy – he is my brother." _

The retort startled Azog enough for Thorin to take the opportunity to lunge at his energy, roaring at his sister-sons as he did so.

_"Run!" _

The pale orc's shock lasted but a moment, and by the time Thorin's blade connected with the vile creature's arm Azog was back in the game. He retaliated against Thorin's apparently superficial blow and swung his mace towards Thorin. The dwarf rolled out of the way, fighting his reborn enemy with more intense passion than ever before.

The rest of the world seemed to melt away as the two fought in a whirlwind of blood and iron, and it seemed an eternity before one of them made a mistake. Azog's blow sailed past the top of Thorin's head and Thorin smashed his sword into his enemy's legs. Azog crashed to the floor with an incredulous roar and Thorin strode towards the orc's head to finish him once and for all.

The pale orc stabbed at him with his metal arm and Thorin dodged the jab poorly – his neck got caught between the now bent metal prongs. Hissing in pain as blood dribbled down his neck, Thorin glared into Azog's eyes.

This was it.

The unfamiliar horn had announced back-up that Thorin could only assume belonged to the orcs or their allies – they had called for no one. His company - no his friends – no – his _family, _were outnumbered, in a battle even they would struggle to survive, let alone win.

If Thorin lost this fight, who would take his place? Not as king, but in the company? Who would rally them together and see them survive this utter carnage?

In a moment, either Azog or Thorin would die, and from the way the orc's other hand was swinging it's mace towards the dwarf, Thorin guessed it would be him.

An unexpected below of anguish tore from Azog's throat his arm was sliced from his body by an unknown attacker and Thorin took the opportunity to lung forward and press his blade to his enemy's neck.

Leaning right up to Azog's face, he snarled in a strong, deadly voice. "You will _never _touch my family again. I am glad that I am the last thing you will ever see."

With an effortless motion Thorin beheaded the pale orc, and after smiling grimly at his defeated foe he turned to thank his rescuer.

Instead he froze, blinking rapidly. If he had not been in a battle, Thorin's moment of shock could have lasted far longer, but his battle instincts forced him into movement as he bowed his head gratefully to one he never thought he would acknowledge.

Standing before him, in full battle attire, sword in hand, was Thranduil.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Low guttural growls emitted from Dwalin's throat as he whirled through the battlefield with as much skill and grace as a dancer, though that was an analogy none would make when seeing him in action. Enemy after enemy fell to the floor and the hardened warrior showed no mercy.

Dwalin had snapped long ago, but seeing Kíli lying so motionless in the cursed elf's arms had sent a jolt through him he had only felt a few times before. It was the jolt of pain that accompanied the loss of a loved one.

When the battle had begun, Dwalin had seen the elf thrust Kíli onto the floor and his eyes had glazed over in a red haze. He had charged for the elf, but to his surprise another got their first. Legolas stabbed the treacherous elf in the gut with one of his wickedly sharp knives, snarling at him in Sindarin before pushing him to the ground, and Dwalin had turned his attention to Fíli, who was trying to carry his brother out of the fray.

Shielding Fíli as he weaved in and out of the orcs and dwarves, had Dwalin beheaded any pitiful orc, goblin or man of the enemy who dared come close enough to cause the youngsters harm. Even as he had done so, he had become aware of Dori, Ori, Bifur and Bilbo doing exactly the same thing, and the five formed a ring around their princes, until they were blocked by the pale orc himself.

Dwalin had torn away at that moment; guarding Fíli from the sides and helping him run around Azog as Thorin tackled _that _particular cur.

Now he watched Fíli's steadily retreating back disappear into the nearby trees with a heave of relief and swung grasper into the head of another orc.

Suddenly his feet were not underneath him anymore and Dwalin fell to the ground with a cry of shock. Before the orc towering over him could swing its scimitar into his chest its head fell into his.

"Master Dwalin!"

"Tyr?" Dwalin took the offered hand of one of his most loyal students with intense confusion.

"Aye, sir." With no time for a longer explanation, the young dwarf re-joined the battle and Dwalin decided to use his usual battle strategy and just go with it.

Legolas danced through the battlefield, refusing to let anger blind him as he sliced the orcs apart. He had been almost as surprised as the dwarves when his kinsmen's horn blew loud and clear through the crisp autumn air, especially when he noted several elves of Rivendell amongst them.

His surprise only doubled as a long line of dwarves began to pour down from the mountain.

Was everybody ready for this fight except them?

A shocked grunt sounded from behind him and he flung his knife through the air, killing the orc that had Dori on the floor without a second thought.

He saw a familiar flash of red hair whirling past him as Tauriel wielded her numerous weapons with deadly elegance.

His father also passed before his sight to his surprise, as did many of the people he cared most dearly about – elves, men and dwarves.

The Prince of Mirkwood fought with his friends and his family, and it was with his friends and family that he fell.

Aragorn watched as a large club smashed into the side of Legolas' head and the elf crumpled to the floor. With an angry roar, he swung Andúril round in a circle, clearing a path so that he could defend his lifeless friend.

He would never be entirely sure how Gimli knew – the last time he had seen the dwarf he had been yards away – but somehow the dwarf was by his side, and together they drove enemy after enemy away from Legolas. Bonds had been forged in the previous year that could not be broken, and it was those bonds that tied the King of Gondor and Gimli son of Glóin to the ground before the fallen elven prince, and they both knew that they would not yield.

Man and dwarf would sooner die than see any further harm come to their elf.

Ori was afraid. The battle did not scare him, no more than it did any other dwarf. He was not afraid of death, or of pain. He would fight until the end, and what would come would come.

No, Ori was afraid of the hobbits.

Bilbo and Frodo Baggins battled side by side with elven daggers that looked alien in their gentle hands, slaying orcs with such intense ferocity that a stranger would take them to be the most bloodthirsty of soldiers. It was not natural to see the simple folk in so deadly a situation.

It did not sit well with Ori, bothering him even as he lost his blade and delved into hand to hand contact.

He would be having words with the company's hobbits as soon as this hell was over and done with.

"Oh, that's it, _now _you've done it!"

The roar was close enough to Ori for him to hear it and he turned in time to see Bofur chasing five screeching orcs away from the battle. The cowardly creatures fled from the livid toymaker who wielded a flaming mattock. Ori guessed that the damage to his weapon was what had caused Bofur to finally snap.

At least, that is what he thought before he noticed two arrows sticking out of Bofur's beloved hat.

Bifur covered his cousin's back as Bofur finished off the fleeing orcs, holding any enemies at bay. It was far from easy but Bifur managed because he had no choice.

With dwarves pouring from the mountain into the mêlée and elves still emerging from the trees, the company began to push the orcs back towards the caves from which they had sprung – an impressive feat due to what appeared to be almost four hundred orcs opposing them.

Even with the unexpected aid they were widely outnumbered, but the battle ended as quickly as it had begun.

Leaderless and dazed, the orcs fled, but they were shown no mercy. Pursued by their intended victims, the army of Azog was utterly destroyed.

And then there was silence.

Dori shakily stood, brushing off his tunic absently as he searched for his brothers. There was Ori, supporting a heavily bleeding Dwalin who appeared to be –

_By Durin, has he lost an arm? _Dori's thoughts shrieked, but they were quickly distracted by Bofur's startled call.

"Nori? Nori, wake up, laddie!"

Dori whirled around to where the toymaker was crouching over his prone brother and ran to Nori's side with a low moan.

"Nori!"

Nori twitched and groaned, his eyes slowly blinking open, their gaze unfocused.

"He's alive…" Bofur stated the obvious with a tired smile. "We need a healer! Who has a healer? Is Óin still with Kíli…?"

To Bilbo's absolute astonishment, it appeared that the company had once again escaped largely intact. Merry was carrying a moaning Pippin on his back, but the youngest hobbit's wounded leg did not look life threatening.

Bombur was bleeding from a heavy head wound and Bifur was limping heavily, but most of the others appeared to have little more than superficial wounds, Legolas being the only unconscious exception.

Balin leant heavily on a long stick, breathing deeply as he watched Thorin approach Thranduil slowly.

The King Under the Mountain took a bottomless breath. "Thank you."

"You are welcome." Thranduil gave a wry smile, looking over the battlefield intently. His face fell rapidly when he saw Aragorn and Gimli attending a body on the floor and in that moment Thorin felt something strange.

He felt sympathy for Thranduil.

The twisted expression of torture contorting the Elvenking's face as he saw his lifeless son was a perfect display of how Thorin had felt, how Thorin _still _felt, knowing that one of the people he treasured the most was on the brink of life and death.

Thorin looked towards the forest which hid his sister-sons and prayed.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

_Twelve Hours Later_

Gently stroking Kíli's damp hair, Fíli sighed softly.

After the battle, the wounded dwarves were all brought into Erebor's Healing Halls, while Bard insisted that the suffering elves take refuge in Dale, adamantly stating that the dwarves already had internal issues and should see to the needs of their own people first.

This much Fíli knew, along with the facts that every member of the company lived, but that was as far as his knowledge extended.

He had carried his brother right into the halls where he had been forced to surrender Kíli to the healers. For hours and hours, he had watched helplessly from a corner as two healers worked over a seemingly endless array of injuries, and now finally they had said they could do nothing more.

The rest was up to Kíli.

Though originally the plan had been only to clean around Kíli's wounds but when the extent of the damage was shown, the healers had thought it better to bathe Kíli then and there, so now his face was clean and his cheeks rosy, and the hair that slipped through Fíli's fingers was damp.

It just made Kíli look more innocent, more vulnerable.

"Fíli…"

He looked up, his face cracking into a small smile. "Thorin."

"How is he?" Thorin asked, taking a seat on the other side of Kíli's bed.

Fíli sighed. "Fighting…"

A wry smile passed over Thorin's own face. "That does not surprise me."

Raised voices yelled unintelligible words through the wall and a healer opened the door. "In here, ma'am."

She stood a moment in the shadows, observing the scene before her with steadying breaths. The dwarven woman's body was neither frail nor bent with age, and the streaks of grey in her hair could not wholly conquer her head. As strong as ever, she could have inspired the term ageing gracefully, the addition of a few more wrinkles the only obvious outward sign of how much time had passed since Fíli last held eyes on her.

Fíli was the first to break the silence. "Ma?"

Dís' breath hitched in her throat and she whispered almost to herself. "I couldn't let myself believe it…I couldn't let myself hope…Oh, Fíli!"

Neither was sure who moved first, but either way they met in the middle of the room, enveloping each other with a crushing hug.

For a moment, Dís squeezed her eyes shut, murmuring into Fíli's ears and sending prayers of gratitude to the heavens, but then she opened her bright blue eyes and pulled away gently to lean over Kíli.

Tears filled her eyes shamelessly and she whispered aloud. "Oh, my baby…"

Fíli felt himself start to shake all over with silent sobs as Thorin stood up.

"Dís, I-"

His sister silenced him by raising his hand. "You said you would bring them back to me."

Thorin knew better than to speak, hanging his head in broken shame. Shock coursed through his body when he felt his little sister fling her arms around him.

"Thank you!"

"It wasn't me!" he whispered into her ear, holding her close.

"Oh, I know." Dís pulled away with a tearful laugh. "Mahal knows where you'd all be if it were down to you."

Thorin hung his head again and Dís lifted up his chin as if she were his mother, not his sister. "I have missed you, brother."

"I have missed you, sister." He returned in a voice thick with emotion and Dís reached for Fíli, pulling him close again as she held onto Kíli's hand with the arm looped around Thorin.

"I've missed all of my boys…"

"We missed you too." Fíli insisted on behalf of himself and his brother.

Kíli stirred in his bed, his eyes flickering tauntingly.

"Kíli?" Fíli cried, racing to his brother's side only to hang his head as Kíli slipped back to sleep.

"He will wake." Dís insisted. "Don't worry, Fíli, he will wake."

"I know…" Fíli smiled tiredly. "I know."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Áile greeted Glóin and Gimli happily, but then her eyes fell on Nori and she sighed.

"Nori? You should come with me."

Alarmed, Nori stared at Glóin who shrugged, just as confused as he was. He followed his friend's wife to a separate set of healing chambers, the place where they brought pregnant women. Somehow the atmosphere was just as fearful as it had been in the battle.

Leading him over to the last bed, Áile stepped back to allow Nori to see Kára, her stomach swollen with pregnancy, and he gaped.

"Kara…"

Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled in relief. "Nori…"

Taking the hand she rose to him he tried to find the words. "Whe…how?"

"I didn't know…I didn't know when you left." She chuckled weakly. "Alfr, Alfr was going to tell you."

Nori swallowed but his wife continued.

"Nori, I'm scared."

"Don't be." Nori said instantly, smoothing Kara's hair away from her forehead gently. "Don't be. It will all be alright, Kara, I promise."

"No one can promise that Nori." Kara whispered. "I've got a low fever. I'm showing the signs, Nori, the signs of the sickness…"

"You _will _be alright." Nori insisted, kissing his wife on the forehead.

"Are you alright?"

"I am." Nori nodded. "Or at least I will be."

Kara chuckled weakly. "I love you…"

"I love you too."

**Okay, that felt a bit lame. Was it lame? I love reading battle scenes but I cannot write them to save my life. I think my ideas were more effective than the actual writing but oh well. **

**Let me know what YOU thought :)**


	24. Chapter 24: Child

**Wow, thanks for the great response last chapter :) I love you all – my reviewers, followers and favouriters! I had no idea that people would like the last chapter! I'm sorry for the wait! Real life can be a bummer, blame my teachers :P**

**I'm sorry for any mistakes, I'm trying to get this up for you ASAP :P**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty Four # Child #**

_"I'd like to win father of the year_

_From the day you're born 'til when I'm no longer here_

_I'd like to be your best friend, _

_The one to build your confidence_

_Your number one for all…_

_Well people make mistakes and I know I will,_

_Time after time_

_But just promise that,_

_You'll learn from mine_

_Child, live and love_

_I need you to_

_Find the best part of_

_Me in you." BriBry O'Reilly, Child _

Thorin stood outside the enormous gates of Erebor, listening serenely to the Elvenking's explanation.

"The surviving Beornings sought refuge in Mirkwood and told us of what had come to pass. When we realised the extent of the threat there was nothing to do but raise an army. Mithrandir arrived with Lord Elrond and more of our kin from Rivendell to convince us to fight, but our minds were already made." Thranduil explained with equal serenity.

His elven warriors and healers were fanned out behind him, watching with cautious optimism as the scene played out. Legolas stood directly to the right of his father, tall and proud despite the cane and his bandaged head, smiling at Thorin.

"Thank you." The King of Erebor had everyone's complete attention as he spoke smoothly, as if he had been conversing with elves his entire life. "For your aid, and for saving my life."

There was a moment's pause, and then the unbelievable happened.

In movements as synchronised as the moon and the tide, the dwarf king and the elven king both bowed.

A huge smile across his face, Legolas dropped to one knee and bowed, at the exact same time as Dwalin and Gimli mirrored the movements from their places behind Thorin. Like a ripple in the ocean, or trees in the wind, the dwarves of Erebor and the elves of Mirkwood all bowed at each other in a moment that brought Bilbo Baggins to tears.

"Finally..." He muttered. "Finally..."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Dis watched from the balcony as her brother bowed to the elven king with a wry smile.

She had no desire to see either of her sons disintegrate into ash, so she was very pleased to see her brother making an effort to re-forge the old alliances. Pride and honour were important to Dis, but nowhere near as important as her sons.

A soft moan drew her back into the room and she moved back to sit by Kíli's bed.

Her youngest son was groaning and squirming, clutching at the blankets with sweaty fists.

"It's alright, Kíli, it's alright." She murmured, her hand and voice shaking in unison. "I'm here, you're safe..."

Kíli let out another soft moan, his head lolling from side to side. This had happened several times over the past three days – Kíli had stirred and even mumbled words none could understand, but still he had not woken.

Earlier that morning, Thorin had reluctantly parted from his nephew's side to converse with Thranduil on the side of the mountain, and Dis had finally managed to convince Fíli to go and bathe, so she was alone with her son for the first time in over sixty years.

"You're safe, Kíli...you're safe."

Kíli's eyelids cracked open a slither and Dis took her son's hand hopefully. "Kíli?"

Slowly, very slowly, his blurred brown eyes opened.

"Kíli?"

The brown orbs blinked closed, only to fly open again, squinting up at Dis. Kíli sucked in a breath, gripping at Dis' hand. "F...f..."

"Your brother is fine." Dis instantly recognised Kíli's plea, brushing his hair away from his forehead fondly, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "Everyone is safe."

Kíli's eyes closed again and he took a deep breath, before opening them once more. The corner of his mouth twitched up and he smiled hopefully. "Ma?"

Dis laughed softly, tears springing to her eyes. "Yes, Kíli, it's me, I'm here."

"You...look...same..." He breathed, squeezing her hand with a weak smile. "Haven't...changed..."

Dis smiled. "I'm a fair bit older now, little one."

"No..." His breathing started to become more laboured as if he were already exhausted. "You're... same...still my… Amad..."

"Of course… I'll always be your Amad, Kíli." Dis murmured, tears springing to her eyes. "And I do not want to outlive you this time – I refuse to bury you again, you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma." Kíli mumbled obediently, trying to smile. "Wha' happened? Fee...fa' A...Azog-"

"Azog is dead." Dís' tone was sharp, but she quickly checked herself. "He won't hurt you anymore."

"How?" Kíli's voice cracked after three days without use.

"Thorin killed him. There was a battle…"

Kíli's breathing quickened. "Ba…my…faul'?"

"No, no. You were the catalyst, not the cause. It was Azog's actions, not yours, that started the battle."

"Any…dead?"

"None of your company. Some of our warriors joined the battle, as did Thranduil and his people, with Lord Elrond, a number of them fell."

Kíli raised his eyebrows clumsily. "Really?"

And with that Kíli's head flopped back down onto the pillow and he swooped back into slumber. Pressing the hand that was not holding Kíli's against her mouth, Dis shuddered.

The door opened and Fíli padded across the room to the bed.

"He…" Dis swallowed the lump in her throat.

"He what?" Fíli cried, running around to the other side of Kíli's bed and grabbing his brother's limp hand.

"He woke up…" Dís whispered, meeting Fíli's suddenly bright eyes with a smile. "He woke up."

"He woke up? What happened, what did he say?"

"Before he even knew who I was he asked for you." Dis smiled wryly. "He told me I haven't changed, asked what happened…"

"But he woke up, he talked to you?"

"Yes." Dis gave a little laugh at Fíli's face and then they both started laugh brightly, their voices ringing with relief.

Fíli dropped his head onto Kíli's chest as he laughed, feeling strangely weak as relief took the energy from his bones.

"F…Fee?"

He snapped his head up, another laugh escaping his throat. "Kíli!"

His little brother blinked groggily, already looking as if he were about to flutter back to sleep. "You… alrigh'?"

"I'm so much better now." Fíli felt the tears in his eyes fighting to spill onto his cheeks.

Kíli smiled slightly and his eyes closed once more.

Fíli turned his shining eyes to his mother. "He's not giving up."

"Of course not." Dis laughed, and then spoke in unison with her son.

"He's an heir of Durin."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Pippin felt horribly out of place and alone inside Erebor. All four hobbits, Merry, Frodo, Bilbo and himself, had been brought into Erebor at Thorin's insistence, and had been surprisingly welcome given Erebor's current crisis. However, Merry had taken Frodo and Bilbo down to Dale so that the Bagginses could meet Eleanor Gamgee, and due to his broken leg Pippin had been forced to remain in case he make anything worse.

With nothing to do, though, Pippin felt useless and intrusive, and he sat in the healing chambers trying not to feel too sorry for himself.

"Pippin?"

"Hullo, Bombur." He smiled as the dwarf entered the room. A small girl was clinging to Bombur's arm and she gazed at Pippin with wide eyes. He smiled at her. "Hello."

She squeaked, hiding easily behind Bombur who chuckled deeply.

"This is my youngest daughter, Nala. We were heading to the kitchen and wondering if you would like to join us?"

Pippin raised his eyebrows happily. "I would love to!"

Nala peeked around from her father's gigantic leg and Pippin could instantly see the family resemblance in her big brown eyes and her beautiful long copper hair, but the girl was surprisingly slim for a dwarfling, especially when her father was taken into account. She held a stronger resemblance to her uncle - if Bofur was a little girl, Pippin decided, he would look like her. Nala's features were slightly daintier replicas of Bofur's, from the shake of her eyebrows to the sparkle of her eyes.

Waiting for Pippin to pick up his crutches, Bombur explained to him where they were going. "The main kitchens are quite a way away, but that's not where we're off to – we're heading to the Company kitchen, it's more private and much closer."

"The Company kitchen?" Pippin wondered aloud and Bombur grinned.

"It was officially built for the use of the nobility when they desired to cook for themselves, but we've pretty much taken over it in the years since the quest, and everyone refers to it as the company kitchen."

"We're going t' bake sometin'." Nala offered shyly, her voice as strongly accented as her father's and her uncle's. "Adad always lets me bake when I don't feel well."

"What's wrong?" Pippin frowned sympathetically as they started to move and the little girl sighed sadly, sniffing for emphasis.

"I gotta cold. And everyone's hurt, because of the battle, and the sickness. Amad thinks that it'll make people better quicker if they have sometin' nice t' eat."

Pippin nodded thoughtfully. "That's always how we do things in the Shire."

Pushing open the doors to the large kitchen, Bombur began to gather ingredients, while Nala crept closer to Pippin. "The Shire's where the halflings are all from, no?"

"That's right."

"And it's nice there? No sickness or fightin'?"

"Not usually." Pippin nodded and Nala gave a soft sigh.

"I'd like t' go there sometime."

"It's a nice place. You'd probably find it mighty boring, mind." Pippin noted.

"Maybe." The child shrugged, biting her lip. "Amad wants to le-achoo!"

Catching the girl as she tumbled forward, Pippin glanced at Bombur who had whipped around with impressive speed to stare at his daughter with worry.

"Are you alright?" Pippin asked the little girl in concern, passing her a handkerchief.

She nodded gloomily. "I don't feel well."

"It's just a cold." Bombur insisted in his deep, accented voice, and Nala sniffed fearfully.

"Of course it is." Pippin nodded with a smile, trying to comfort the girl as his stomach curled at the thought of the alternative that Bombur must have been dreading.

The rotund dwarf cleared his throat. "Nala, what do you want to bake?"

She considered thoughtfully. "Cinnamon scrolls?"

"Good choice." Pippin's enthusiastic response had the little girl beaming.

Bombur smiled. "So first we need..."

"Cinnamon?" Nala tried hopefully, her eyes lighting up.

Bombur smiled. "Go on!"

"Flour..." The look of concentration on Nala's face was adorable as she correctly recalled all of the ingredients of the delicious treat. "...and first we need t' heat the oven!"

Well done." Pippin praised, genuinely impressed and the little girl puffed up proudly.

"T'ank you."

Bombur glanced at Pippin slyly. "I've heard that hobbits are very good bakers."

"My cousin Daisy makes the best pastries east of Valinor!" Pippin boasted readily. "And any hobbit worth his feet knows his way around the kitchen."

"Worth his feet? That's a strange thing t' say." Nala giggled.

"Is it?" Pippin asked playfully, wiggling his toes.

Nala's eyes widened as she observed his shoeless feet for the first time. "They're so big! And hairy!"

"That's what I said the first time I saw dwarves." Pippin quipped and Bombur chuckled deeply.

"He's got a point, lass."

"Why don't hobbits where shoes?"

"We don't need to." Pippin explained. "Our feet are very tough."

Unsatisfied with that answer, Nala continued to bombard the happy hobbit with questions as they started to bake. Halfway through the conversation swung the other way and Pippin listened with interest to her chatter on about her brothers and sister.

Every so often the little girl would pause to sneeze or cough, and Bombur would glance at her fearfully before moving on.

Seemingly unperturbed by the illness, Nala informed Pippin that her brother Frey was the eldest of them all, followed by her sister Astra, and that they were Bombur's only children born before the quest for Erebor. Pippin discovered that Halvor and Orvar, apparently twins, were next, having been born a decade after the reclamation of the lonely mountain, and that Torlief was born after them. Nala was the second youngest, she explained, with her little brother Viggo being the last of Bombur's bunch.

A little surprised that Bombur had such a large family which he had never heard of, Pippin listened intently to her anecdotes for the entire time they spent baking.

When the pastries were finally baked, the three bakers had two huge scrolls each, before piling the enormous batch into three big baskets ready to distribute among the healing rooms.

Nala lifted her hands up to her father and Bombur picked her up. She shifted in his arms as the door opened.

"I didn't know you had such a big family." Pippin remarked to Bombur casually and the large dwarf smiled.

"I don't talk of them as much as Glóin talks of Gimli, but I don't talk as much as Glóin about anything. It doesn't mean I love them any less."

"Good afternoon, Bombur, Pippin, Nala."

"Uncle Bofur!" Nala sang happily as the dwarf walked into the room.

"That's my name! You ready, lassie?"

"Uh huh. It was nice to meet you - _achoo_! - Mr Pippin. See you soon, Adad!" She squeezed Bombur tightly and planted a kiss on his cheek before skipping over to Bofur, handing him a cinnamon scroll as she did.

"For me? Thank you, Nala." He smiled and jostled the little girl onto his hip. "We'll be back as soon as possible, Bombur."

Pippin looked at the two dwarves, a little confused by the solemn looks on their faces.

"I know. Take care, the both of you."

Bofur nodded dutifully and walked away.

"What's going on?" Pippin frowned.

"Bofur's taking Nala to his toy shop on the other side of the city for a few days, for some peace and quiet while she gets over that cold, and so she won't pass it onto the others. Just in case."

Pippin frowned at Bombur's hollow tone. "In case of what?"

For a long time the architect said nothing. He just picked up two baskets, handed the third to Pippin and walked towards the healing halls. Pausing at the door, Bombur turned around with haunted eyes that made Pippin shudder.

"No one thinks it's a cold."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

"She's adorable, Sam!" Bilbo cooed as Frodo took the little baby from Rosie.

"She is, isn't she, Mr Bilbo?" Sam grinned, looking at the infant with the dopey smile of a besotted parent.

"You called her Eleanor." Frodo grinned, unable to take his eyes off of the baby.

"Just like you suggested." Rosie agreed. "It's a beautiful name, and it suits her."

"It does, very much so." Bilbo declared, before lowering his voice. They were in a little private garden in Dale belonging to Bard, guarded by Beregond and another, and there was very little chance of their being overheard. "Thorin said that you were both very welcome in Erebor, Eleanor too, in light of the events of the last year and the fact that you're family, but he also said that it may be safer for you in Dale at present. The sickness in Erebor is preying on the women and children, and we don't know if hobbit children are susceptible to it."

Rosie bit her lip and looked at Sam. "We're happy here, for a while longer. It's quite interesting, living among men and elves."

"Who knew that Rosie Cotton would become a traveller?" Frodo teased.

"I will take that baby off you, Master Baggins." Rosie warned lightly, and Frodo cradled the baby closer against his chest.

"I'm sorry."

"He's even more in love with her than I was." Merry laughed.

"Frodo, we were wondering if you would like to be her godfather?" Sam asked hopefully, and Frodo laughed.

"I would be honoured."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

"Breathe, it's alright, Kara, just breathe…" Nori pleaded as his wife screamed in agony.

Kara sobbed, gripping at Nori's hand. "I'm so…scared!"

"I know." Nori swallowed. "Me too, Kara, me too, but we'll be alright, I promise."

"You can't, you can't promise that!" Kara moaned, and the healer Iona smoothed down the pregnant woman's dress.

"He's right, Kara, just relax as much as you can, I know it hurts, I know…" Áile, who was acting as a midwife, soothed.

"I…can't!" Her back arching with the sharp pains of labour, Kara dug her nails into Nori's hand and the red-headed dwarf felt paralysed with fear.

He could not cope with losing Kara; it would kill him as surely as a knife in his heart would. Her pain was like a dagger in his back, and at every scream the dagger was twisted deeper and deeper into his soul.

"You need to push now!" Iona said suddenly, and Nori stopped breathing.

Kara sobbed and shook her head, but Áile took her hand. "Come on, Kara, push!"

Her groan rose into a scream as she pushed, and Nori felt his fingers being crushed in her iron grip. Áile nudged him harshly in the ribs.

"Come on, Kara!" he swallowed. "You can do it!"

With a scream to wake the dead, Kara pushed, and pushed and pushed and pushed.

The sound of an infant crying filled the air and Nori gave a single sob.

"You did it, Kara, you did it!" he looked up as Áile and Iona whisked the baby away, checking the wailing infant for any sings of the sickness.

"Did I?" she murmured sorrowfully. "Is the baby alright?"

Nori looked up at Áile, who was still muttering to herself. "I don't know…"

Kara sobbed, clutching at Nori's hand, and he lowered his forehead onto hers.

"I'm so sorry…" Iona began and Nori's heart contracted painfully.

_We've lost the baby, we've lost the baby, we've_

"We misdiagnosed!" Áile sang, lowering the baby into Kara's trembling arms. "It looks like it was just a common cold or the like – the baby is fine! He's showing none of the signs or symptoms, not one!"

Nori laughed in relief, pressing a kiss to Kara's sweaty forehead. "You did it!"

The baby in Kara's arms continued its crying, opening its deep brown eyes and gazing up at his parents.

"I did it…" she whispered, laying her head back against the pillow. For a terrifying moment she was entirely still, and then she released a long breath. "We did it, Nori, he's alive! He's going to be alright!"

"I told you!" Nori beamed, and Kara looked up at him.

Despite the exhaustion, pain and fear the last few days had brought, his wife was glowing.

"What shall we call him?"

Nori shrugged with a smile. "I don't know…we don't have to decide right away, though…"

"Welcome to the world, little one…" Kara murmured, kissing the baby's head before offering the bundle up to Nori.

A little hesitantly, Nori cradled his son in his arms, and the babe stopped crying almost immediately.

"Hello, little fella…" he chuckled softly, taking in the perfect little features of the infant in his arms. "I'm your Adad…"

Kara sighed softly, content to ease herself down into the pillow and sleep for a few decades. As she wearily looked up at her husband and son, Kara smiled to herself.

Maybe some things would be alright after all.

**According to a Stephen Hunter (Bombur) interview I saw, Bombur has multiple children (along the lines of 'I lost count'). While none (that I'm aware of) are mentioned in the book, for this story's sake I'm giving Bombur seven - Frey, Astra, Halvor, Orvar, Torlief, Nala and Viggo which is plenty for a dwarf, I know, but is necessary for the age gaps to be realistic-ish. I stole all of their names from old Norse names like Tolkien did often for his dwarves, apart from Nala which I just stole from the Lion King instead. I'm not planning on elaborating on all of their characters much because this story is not centred around OCs, but they will all probably crop up from time to time. **

**I imagine Nala to be the equivalent of a six or seven year old in this chapter. I'm well aware that this has been rather kid centric – what did you think of it? **

**I hope you liked the chapter but now I need your help – it's baby naming time! **

**Options for Nori and Kara's son that I quite like are as follows **

**-Alfr**

**- Líefin (pronounced Lee-fin) **

**- Ari**

**- Torsten **

**Or any other dwarvish/norse names that you can think of :) **

**It's up to you to tell me which one is best, so get reviewing :P**


	25. Chapter 25: The Plagues

**Happy Birthday to our dear hobbits, Bilbo and Frodo Baggins! And thank you very much for my lovely reviews! **

**All the votes were in and several names were tied so I made a decision and will explain it in the note at the end. I used the name Torsten at the end of this chapter so it's not that, stay tuned to find out what it is!**

**As ever, mistakes are my own. The song at the start of this chapter comes from the film the Prince of Egypt and reflects this chapter well. It's also really emotional, so if you like to listen to music while reading, I recommend this song :P**

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty Five # The Plagues #**

_"I send a pestilence and plague  
Into your house, into your bed  
Into your streams, into your streets  
Into your drink, into your bread  
Upon your cattle, on your sheep  
Upon your oxen in your field  
Into your dreams, into your sleep  
Until you break, until you yield  
I send the swarm, I send the horde  
Thus saith the Lord!_

_..._

I send the thunder from the sky  
I send the fire raining down

_..._

I send a hail of burning ice  
On ev'ry field, on ev'ry town

This was my home  
All this pain and devastation  
How it tortures me inside  
All the innocent who suffer  
From your stubbornness and pride...

I send the locusts on a wind  
Such as the world has never seen  
On ev'ry leaf, on ev'ry stalk  
Until there's nothing left of green  
I send my scourge, I send my sword  
Thus saith the Lord!" Amick Byram and Ralph Fiennes, The Plagues, The Prince of Egypt

Thorin strode back towards the Royal Healing Halls as quickly as he could –while retaining his stateliness – worrying over the events of the past days.

Two days previously, Kíli had awoken for the first time, and Nori's wife Kára had given birth. In accordance with tradition, the couple had not yet released the baby's name – Thorin knew only that it was a boy who was constantly monopolized by his father and two uncles, much to his mother's chagrin. Dori and Ori undoubtedly knew the name that the parents had picked for their child, but neither would utter a clue before Nori announced their chosen name five days after the babe's birth.

The healthy baby had been one of a few mercies granted to the company since the battle that was now being referred to as the Battle for the Princes. Another had been the arrival of a small group of surviving skin-changers, including Grimbeorn and Amalie, who were intensely relieved to find Caver alive and well. Furthermore, Kíli was on the way to recovery, having woken up several times.

The struggles and sufferings that followed began with another diagnosis of the dreaded Choking Sickness. When Thorin found out that Bombur's youngest daughter had indeed contracted the illness, anger and pity filled his heart. He ordered that little Nala be taken to one of the empty rooms in the Royal Healing Halls, before deciding that the other children lying ill in the general halls were to be housed in the rooms usually reserved for the royals only, with the exception of the room already taken by Kíli.

The healers had already informed him that it would be a miracle for more than two of the fifty odd sick children to live through the week, but for Thorin that figure was unacceptable.

Óin was working on finding out what could have caused the disease by studying the symptoms and case studies of the sick children, while Gimli, Glóin and Thorin Stonehelm took Frodo, Bilbo and Merry to the tunnels mentioned by Thorin Stonehelm to see if they could find where the little boy, Oden, had come from.

Pippin, due to his broken leg, had been forced to remain behind, and he spent his time drifting in and out of the rooms of the ill children, entertaining each and every one of them indiscriminately, often with the help of the Caver and occasionally Amalie. The youngest skin-changer had taken almost as strong a shining to Pippin as he had to Frodo, which was amusing as Pippin had been terrified of the dog the first time he had seen him.

Amalie and Grimbeorn, when the former was not with Caver and Pippin, mostly stayed out of the way, running errands for the dwarves such as trips to Dale or even Lake Town for supplies. The skin-changers accompanying them were indispensable, doing whatever they could to help their hosts, who were in desperate need of the help, especially when five of the largest food stores of Erebor were destroyed – to by fire and three by insects. The sources of both were unknown – though Nori's watchers were working overtime to try and find the cause.

Dori and Ori made themselves busy by helping any they could, from cleaning up the halls to running to Dale for more medical supplies. No job was too big, too small, too petty or too elaborate for the brothers, and no matter who asked for help, they were there. Nori had wanted to help as they had, but the Head Healer, Iona, had told him that he had to choose – for if he decided to expose himself to the sickness he would put his son at risk the moment he returned, so he stayed with his wife, scouring over plans of Erebor and coordinating with his Watchers to follow any leads that may have cropped up.

Bombur spent most of his time with Nala, leaving only when it was absolutely necessary. His wife Dana was with him, leaving Bofur and Bifur to care for and comfort the other children. While most of Bombur's children were old enough to understand – and fear – the situation, the youngest boy, Viggo could not understand why his big sister and parents were away, something that Bofur had confided in Fíli when the young prince came to visit.

Appointing himself as Kíli's personal bodyguard, Fíli rarely left his brother's side, but when he did he checked in on each member of the company and their families, before usually speaking to the families of the sick women and children to see if there was anything that he could to help them while the healers helped their loved ones, often accompanied by his mother.

Balin had been invaluable, advising, choreographing, organising, directing and assisting with apparent ease. He seemed to appear whenever Thorin looked for him, and when the King wanted a moment of peace Balin would leave to check on some other system in place, or alternatively on his brother.

During the Battle for the Princes, Dwalin had lost his left arm from the elbow down, an excruciating injury that had drained much of his energy, but Thorin's old friend would be damned if he would complain. He had even insisted on accompanying Thorin to the meeting with the elves on the slopes of Erebor, though he had slept for three hours solid afterwards. With the risk of the wound becoming infected next to non-existent, the warrior was starting to mobilise a little more, directing the guards to help wherever they could with whatever they could.

The population had been shocked and appalled when Thorin initially declared his intent to let Legolas into the mountain, but they were mollified when he gave a detailed account of everything the elf had willingly sacrificed to help the company, and when Gimli had added all that he knew about the elf. Legolas had originally been just as apprehensive, but Óin had asked him for assistance with searching for a cure, and recognising the desperation of the dwarves, Legolas had agreed, and was slowly becoming trusted by the other healers and the ill women and children.

The company had the same single minded focus as Thorin and the rest of the dwarves of Erebor, and they all had the same goal.

Find the source of the sickness.

Find a cure.

Find it fast.

The city was under attack, and every dwarf and his mother was doing everything they could to defend themselves and their families.

Thorin reached his destination and stopped his musing to pause at the door, nodding at the trusted guard at the door. Silence met his ears, which probably meant that Kíli was asleep, and that his brother and mother were away on errands.

He slipped into the room inaudibly, but to his surprise Kíli's eyes opened.

"Thorin…"

Thorin smiled, walking over to sit by the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Better every day." Kíli sighed, smiling wryly. "I think I'll be able to get u-"

"You will get up when Óin and Iona both give you leave." Thorin interrupted, amused by Kíli's instant pout.

No sooner had his bottom lip pushed out, Kíli's face fell, and he looked away.

"Kíli?" Thorin asked, worried. "Are you alright?"

Kíli just shook his head.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing…" Kíli murmured, smiling weakly at his uncle. "Nothing is wrong."

Thorin glared at his nephew. "Something is wrong."

To his horror, Kíli turned away again, shame burning in his eyes.

"Kíli, please…" he begged, touching Kíli's cheek to draw the brown eyes back to his own. "I want to help you."

Kíli's eyes filled with tears but he blinked angrily, shaking his head and gently removing Thorin's hand. "I am fine."

"You are not fine. I know you, Kíli."

Kíli seemed to shrink away further and Thorin sighed, looking away to the fire that was dying in the fireplace. He stood up to shovel more coal onto the fire but Kíli cried out.

"Please! Don't leave me, please!"

Thorin was back at Kíli's side within the moment, and he took the heir's shaking hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Kíli, but the fire is dying."

Kíli's cheeks flared and he closed his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Thorin shook his head. "It's alright, Kíli…"

Kíli took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry."

Thorin pulled the chair closer. "The only thing you have to apologise for is terrifying me."

Kíli frowned. "I terrified you?"

Thorin nodded. "Losing you would be more torture than I could handle."

"I think that's what Azog was counting on." Kíli murmured quietly.

Thorin nodded absently, and Kíli's next murmur was even quieter.

"He's dead?"

"Azog? Yes."

"Are you sure? He has a tendency to resurrect…" Kíli's apprehensive voice almost made Thorin smile.

"I served his head, not his arm." Thorin assured his nephew.

Kíli nodded, swallowing. Thorin leaned forward, recognising Kíli's fidgety behaviour. He wanted to confide in someone, he wanted to tell Thorin something that he would not, or could not, tell his mother or brother.

"I…" Kíli closed his shame-filled eyes. "I'd given up…I didn't want to live anymore, it was too much, I just couldn't… I'd given up, Thorin…"

Thorin wanted to vomit, but instead he just squeezed Kíli's hand tighter and asked quietly. "What changed?"

"I heard Fíli screaming…I didn't want him to see me die…and then I heard him tell Azog…and I held on."

"For Fíli." Thorin swallowed.

"And you." Kíli opened his eyes, offering a weak smile. "But mainly Fee."

Thorin smiled, stroking Kíli's hair. He did not know what to say – expressing emotions was never his strong point. "You're so like your uncle…"

Kíli looked confused. "My Uncle?"

Thorin blinked. "I said that aloud?"

Kíli's mouth twitched into a small smile. "Yes…"

"Oh…" Thorin took a deep breath. "I was thinking of Frerin."

"Oh…" Kíli's smile dimmed a little and he looked up at Thorin curiously. _What did you mean? _He seemed to ask. _Is that a good thing? _But Kíli knew that Thorin did not like to talk about Frerin, so he did not ask the questions burning in his eyes, which reminded Thorin of his own brother all the more.

"He would do anything, _anything _for me, or for your mother…Never for himself. He would ask questions with his eyes, just like you just did…He was brave, he was loyal…you are a lot like him." By the time Thorin finished his voice was rough.

"Thank you…" Kíli murmured, squeezing Thorin's hand.

Thorin smiled wryly. "Your mother wanted to call Fíli Frerin, but I would not let her. I felt it was too soon… it never gets easier, losing a brother."

"I can't imagine it." Kíli shuddered.

"Don't try." Thorin advised.

"Oh, I won't!" Kíli swore, closing his eyes. "I'm glad I held on."

"We all are."

Thorin felt stories on the tip of his tongue, stories that had been too painful to think of before, but stories that were now begging to be told. "Do you want to hear about him?"

Kíli propped himself up a little more in bed. "About Frerin?"

"Aye…"

Kíli grinned, shifting in anticipation and Thorin returned the smile.

"When we were children, we got into even more trouble than you and Fíli did."

"Really?" Kíli laughed. "I find that hard to believe."

"Oh do you?" Thorin raised an eyebrow. "Well…"

Hours later, Dís paused at the door the same way her brother had, smiling as she heard her son and brother laughing. Entering the room, she was surprised to see tears of sorrow in both their eyes, though they smiled wistfully, and their laughter was rich and genuine.

Noticing his mother, Kíli smiled. "Thorin was telling me about Frerin."

"Ah…" Dís smiled knowingly and Thorin frowned.

"What time is it?"

"The sun set two hours ago."

Thorin cursed and flew to his feet. "I was supposed to meet the council at sunset…"

"Oops." Kíli bit his lip, though it could not hide his amused smile.

Thorin shook his head. "I will be back later, Kíli."

Nodding, Kíli sang angelically. "Have fun!"

Dís shook her head as her brother pointed a warning finger at her son and ran (rather majestically) out of the room. Kíli looked better than he had earlier that morning, by a long way.

"Where's Fee?" he asked curiously.

"He's just leaving Bombur's home." Dís explained softly.

"Oh…" Kíli's face fell. "How's Nala doing?"

Dís swallowed and shook her head. "Not very well. And…"

"What?" Kíli probed fearfully.

"There's been another outbreak in the western reaches of the city – twenty children died last week alone, and we have received word from the Blue Mountain's that they sent word to _us _twenty years ago begging for relief from a similar sickness, but the message was never received. The Lord of the Blue Mountains realised that his messengers had met their dooms and decreed it too dangerous to trust the message to any, lest it be intercepted. Their plague was never as widespread or deadly as ours, but it lingered until two or three years ago." Dís shook her head. "It's getting worse. And then there's the food supplies, two food stores have burnt down and several others have been infested with insects and parasites – the city is under attack."

"What can I do?"

"You? Get better, that's all you can do!" Dís raised her eyebrow and planted a kiss on her frustrated son's head.

A loud wail met their ears, loud enough to travel through the thick walls of the royal healing wings and Dís closed her eyes.

"By Mahal, we've lost another one…"

Kíli's mouth dropped open in horror and the door opened. Fíli walked in, wiping his eyes, with a young dwarven girl who appeared to be about the same age as Kíli. The girl had deep auburn hair and even less facial hair than Kíli – a comforting thought – with bright green eyes dimmed with grief and fear. She was pretty, very pretty, and strangely familiar.

"His name was Torsten, son of Vidar." Fíli's voice was hollow and Kíli's heart turned to lead.

"The dwarf that died in the Misty Mountains?"

Fíli nodded, swallowing. "He was six years old."

Kíli moaned, closing his eyes.

"How are you, Astra?" Dís asked gently, and Kíli's eyes opened in shock.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose." The girl said softly. "I've been visiting Nala as much as I can, most of us have but Lief and Viggo are both young enough to be susceptible to it…Viggo still doesn't understand."

"You're Astra?" Kíli spluttered, and she blushed slightly. "Forgive me, but you're – were – a little child!"

Dís rolled her eyes, swatting Kíli gently across the back of the head. "The last time you saw her she was fifteen, Kíli. Now she is seventy six."

Astra nodded with a small smile. "My father and uncles sent me to make sure that your brother is not exaggerating or understating your condition."

Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that the child he vaguely remembered seeing in Ered Luin was now but a year younger than him – in a way – Kíli blinked. "Well, I'm healing."

"Good." Astra smiled wryly. "We need some good news around here."

"Hopefully our hobbits will be back soon." Fíli nodded.

"They've been gone two days already." Kíli agreed. "They must have found something."

"What do you think there is to find?" Astra asked wearily. "A magically stone that cures all illness? Some malicious traitor poisoning children all across the city? A sign saying 'plague was here'?"

Kíli was taken aback and the girl closed her eyes.

"Excuse me, I need to be with my sister. It is good to know you are healing, my Lord." With that, the girl bowed out of the room.

Kíli looked at his mother worriedly.

"Astra has been training to be a healer for a few years now. She's seen more children die than anyone should have to see. Now her baby sister is slowly succumbing to the same fate." Dís explained sadly. "She is losing hope, as so many already have."

Kíli stared at the door and Fíli sat by the side of the bed, dropping his head into his hands.

"I'm going to make something for dinner if I can find anything, a little homemade food will do us all good." Dís decided, kissing both of her sons before heading for the door. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"Thank you." They chorused gratefully, and as his mother left the room Kíli turned to his brother.

"What's wrong?"

"I was talking to him." Fíli said in a hollow tone. "Two hours ago. He was just starting to learn Khuzdul…"

"Who?" Kíli had a bad feeling that he knew exactly who.

"Torsten." Fíli moaned, his face still in his hands. "His mother couldn't tell him what happened to his father, he told me that he couldn't wait for his Adad to get home so he could show off his Khuzdul words…"

Kíli reached out to grip his brother's arm. Fíli looked up, smiling slightly at his brother.

"Don't leave, alright?"

"What?" Kíli frowned, and Fíli swallowed, the tears getting the better of him.

"Just, stay with me, don't _die, _not again, just…"

"I'm not going anywhere." Kíli promised, wincing as he shifted. "Though I could do with some of Óin's pain relief tonic."

Fíli was instantly on his feet, grabbing the correct bottle from the other side of the room.

"Here…"

"Thank you…" Kíli smiled, grateful for the slight relief the tonic brought. "Oh, Durin…"

"It hurts?" Fíli asked in a low voice.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Kíli chuckled darkly, before looking up at Fíli. "I'm alright, though."

Fíli shook his head, sitting back in the chair next to the bed and pulling it up so he could put his arms and head on the bed. Kíli smiled, playing with Fíli's braids gently.

"I like it when you do that…" Fíli murmured quietly, and Kíli grinned.

"I know…" smoothing out his brother's hair, Kíli whispered. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And we _will _find a cure."

"Will we?" Fíli's voice held little more hope than Astra's.

"Yes." Kíli insisted fiercely, absently braiding another section of Fíli's hair. "We will. We are dwarves of Erebor, we will not break, we will not yield."

"They're so young, so _innocent…" _Fíli groaned, and Kíli swallowed.

If he had to be the beacon of hope for his brother, so be it, he would be the brightest beacon the world had ever seen.

"I love you, brother."

"I love you, too." Fíli sighed.

"And that is exactly why we will be alright." Kíli declared. "We will pull through, all of us."

Another tortured scream reached their room, broadcasting the death of another child and both boys shuddered.

Kíli swallowed. _We _will _pull through. _

_All _of us.

Aided by fear and exhaustion, sleep claimed the two brothers and dragged them deep down into the dangerous world of nightmares.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

As the sun began to set outside of the mountain, Pippin entered Nala's room, Caver by his side. Three children had died that day, and Pippin had been with the youngest, the boy Torsten, when it had happened.

Torsten's mother's screams still burnt in Pippin's ears and Pippin felt physically sick when he thought of their little faces.

"Master Pippin!" Nala croaked happily, her pale face lighting up as she saw the hobbit.

In just two days, the little girl had deteriorated visibly; losing weight and colour, and her sing-song voice had been reduced to a weak rasp.

"Hello Nala." Pippin smiled back. "Do you remember Caver?"

The girl nodded shyly. "The skin-changer?"

"Yup." Pippin grinned, and Caver offered a shy smile.

Bombur was sitting next to the bed but his wife Dana was with their other children and there were several empty seats in the warm room.

"Can you change for me?" Nala batted her big eyes, but they were so sunken into her head that the effect was as chilling as it was endearing.

"Nala, that's not polite." Bombur chided softly, but the young skin-changer giggled.

"I've been asked that a lot and if you want, I can."

"Please!" she rasped, and Bombur passed her a glass of water which she drank down greedily.

Caver pulled off his tunic discreetly, ensuring that he remained covered by his cloak as he put his tunic and leggings into the cupboard behind him. "If I don't do this I'll have no clothes when I change back, and that would be embarrassing."

Nala giggled and looked on in anticipation as the young boy flexed his muscles, a low growl emitting from his throat.

Moments later, the boy was gone and a large dog looked up at Nala with big eyes and a wagging tail.

"Wow…" she gasped, holding her hand out towards the creature who padded closer, sniffing her hand with his big wet nose. She laughed with a breathlessness that was nothing to do with the illness.

Caver put his paws up on the bed with a happy yelp and Nala gasped in delight, fondling his ears and cooing as if she were gazing at a baby and not a scruffy grey dog.

Revelling in the attention, Caver barked happily, sniffing the girl's face.

Pippin smiled as the girl laughed hoarsely. As with many children, the boy who changed magically into a dog was a novel sight, and one that charmed and entertained the sick dwarflings.

Nala's laugh quickly turned into a cough, and Caver backed down with a soft whine, nuzzling the girl's arm comfortingly as she coughed a hacking cough.

Bombur handed over some water and Nala tried to pour it into her mouth, but her hands shook so much that the tumbler danced from her grip and landed on the floor, the water spilling everywhere, including all over Caver's snout.

Nala's cough subsided as the water spilled and she started to cry. "I'm so-so-sorry, A-A-Adad-"

"Hush, little one, it's alright, it's just a glass, hush…"

Caver whined softly in agreement, before winking at Nala (who was as thrilled by the wink as she was by the change) and started to lap up the water from the floor.

The dog instantly recoiled, and thrust his tongue out from between his lips, dragging his paws roughly over the pink muscle as if trying to get rid of a foul taste, all the while a growl escaping his throat.

"Nala, did that water taste okay to you?"

"It's fine, Adad…" Nala looked confused.

Caver looked up at her with a low guttural growl, his eyes narrowing as Bombur poured his daughter another glass of water. A viscous bark tore from his throat and Nala screamed as he leapt over the bed and snatched the cup from Bombur's hand, shaking his head viciously until all of the water had flown from the cup, before dropping it to the floor and barking loudly.

"What's wrong with him?" Nala whispered fearfully, and Pippin felt like he should stand up and try to control the dog, but he could not move for fear, though he knew that Caver would never hurt them.

"I…I don't know, Caver, calm down!" Pippin begged and the dog threw back his head to let out an almighty howl, before scrambling into the open closet and barking at Pippin meaningfully.

Pippin closed the door and there was a loud shuffling sound, before Caver burst out of the cupboard in human form, still sticking out his tongue like a lizard.

"There's something wrong with that water!" he cried. "I can't get the taste off my tongue!"

"What are you talking about?" Pippin cried, still shaken.

"Can't you taste it?" Caver yelled desperately. "There's something very wrong with that water!"

Two guards burst into the door, Amalie behind them. "Caver what's-"

"Am, there's something wrong with the water!" Caver cried, spying a water skin on Amalie's belt. "When did you fill that up?"

"Uh, this morning in Dale…" Amalie frowned and Caver held out his hands. Amalie tossed him the water skin and Caver took a swig, before running over to Nala's bedside, slowing when he got there so as not to scare the child.

"Does this water taste any different to the water you just drank?" he begged, passing her the water skin.

With tear filled eyes Nala took a sip of the water and shook her head.

Caver staggered backwards, running to the water jug by the side of the bed and dipping his finger in, before licking the liquid from his finger and grimacing.

"Amalie, that's not right!"

"What are you talking about?" Bombur cried fearfully and Amalie ran around the bed, putting a hand on Caver's shoulder.

"What do you mean, Caver?"

"Taste it!" Caver looked up at Amalie who frowned and dipped her own finger into the jug.

Like Caver, she screwed up her nose. "Urgh!"

"What?" Bombur frowned.

"That taste…"

Bombur mimicked the two skin-changers and frowned. "I don't taste anything…"

Amalie frowned in concentration, her hand tightening absently on Caver's shoulder. "You wouldn't, you're dwarves…"

"Meaning?" Bombur pressed.

"We taste better, as in we have more taste buds…" Amalie mused. "That water, he's right, it doesn't taste right. It tastes..."

Her eyes lit up with knowledge, but a dark cloud instantly passed over them. "Nala, may we borrow your Adad for just a little minute please? He'll be back before you can recite the alphabet."

Nala nodded worriedly and Amalie ushered the guards, Pippin, Caver and Bombur outside.

"I don't think the children should drink the water anymore-"

"Well they can't drink sand!" one of the guards sneered and the woman frowned.

"I did not suggest that; bring them up water from Dale, in barrels."

"What? Are you suggesting that we're poisoning-"

"No, not you, but I think someone is, I think someone is poisoning those children and they're using the water to do it, what supplies the water here?"

"I'm, I'm not sure… We have a plumbing system but I-"

"So bring them water from somewhere else!"

"What if it wasn't poison you tasted, what if it was just a different type of water to what you're used to?" Pippin cried.

"You've tried everything else." Amalie pointed out. "How could it hurt?"

In less than an hour, the guards warned each and every parent not to give their children water from the jugs, and a group of the fastest skin-changers, guards and watchers ran down to Dale, rolling back barrels of water from the city's alternate water supply.

As Bombur watched the barrels roll in, he realised that they brought with them more than just water. They brought little waves of hope with them, each barrel delivering a little more of the life-sustaining emotion.

He hoped so hard that he worried his heart would burst from the pure emotion of it.

"Adad?" Nala mumbled sleepily, reaching out her little arms.

Bombur sat on the side of the bed, lifting his youngest girl into his arms and cradling her gently. "Aye?"

"Am I going to the Halls of Mandos?"

"No." Bombur insisted, holding her closer. "No, lassie, you're not. You're going to be just perfect, understand me? You're going to live a long and happy life and give me lots of grandchildren."

Nala snuffled. "Alright, Adad."

With a wide yawn Nala slipped into sleep, and for hours Bombur just cradled her in his arms.

Bombur closed his eyes, only to open them a moment later when the door opened and Ori slipped in.

"Hello Bombur…" the young dwarf walked over silently, looking sadly at Nala. "How is she?"

"Holding on." Bombur nodded with a sigh.

"We thought you could do with some news?" Ori offered and Bombur smiled.

"Is Nori's babe alright?"

"He is." Ori beamed. "And his name is Ari."

"Ari, son of Nori? That's a good name." Bombur smiled softly, honoured that he was being told the babe's name before the official announcement.

"It is." Ori murmured, sitting next to the architect. "We received news from the hobbits."

"Aye?" Bombur asked hungrily and the young dwarf took a deep breath.

"Well…"

**And I leave it there for a while until we come back and find out what our hobbits discovered. **

**I chose the name Ari because it was one of the tied votes and because it fits well with Nori and with Kára, I hope you like it. **

**So, is the poison in the water? Who destroyed the food stores and why? If the army was defeated, who is attacking the mountain? Will Bombur lose his youngest daughter?**

**Ah, so many questions :P **


	26. Chapter 26: Pompeii

**Thanks so much for my reviews, favourites and follows! Sorry for the slight delay, I hope you like this chapter :)**

**It's a little bit disjointed, it was on purpose but I'm not sure if it worked or not, so do tell :P As usual sorry for any mistakes. **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty Six # Pompeii #**

_"And the walls kept tumbling down  
In the city that we love  
Grey clouds roll over the hills  
Bringing darkness from above_

But if you close your eyes,  
Does it almost feel like  
Nothing changed at all?  
And if you close your eyes,  
Does it almost feel like  
You've been here before?  
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?  
How am I gonna be an optimist about this?" Bastille, Pompeii

Frodo stared in awe around the huge cavern.

"So this lake supplies water to the whole city?"

Bilbo nodded absently. "According to the plans and information that Ori and Balin gave me, there's a huge indoor plumbing system supplying water to the entire city."

"Do you think that the water could be poisoned?" Merry asked curiously, staring at a nearby vein of gold running through the rock. "Do you think that that is what's making the children sick?"

Bilbo shook his head. "Possibly but I doubt it. If it is, why isn't everyone sick?"

"It could be a disease that only children are susceptible to." Merry shrugged.

"Surely if it was they would all have gotten sick?" Frodo guessed, peering into the crystal clear water.

"You would think so…" Bilbo mused.

They had been in the tunnels for the past two days, with no signs at all to where Oden, the little boy who died twice had come from, but so far they had found nothing, not a single trace.

"Where do we go now, Bilbo?" Frodo asked, gazing up at the gem studded ceiling.

"I'm not sure…" the older hobbit looked around at the numerous tunnels.

"This way…" Merry said darkly, and the two Bagginses turned to look at their young companion. He was staring down one of the significantly darker tunnels, a draft disturbing the hair around his face.

"What makes you say that?" Frodo stepped towards his younger cousin apprehensively.

"It smells awful." The faint trace of humour on Merry's face could not disguise his disgust. "Like blood, sweat and goblins."

"You always did have a good nose…" Frodo murmured as he arrived at his cousin's side, his own nose wrinkling up.

"Blood, sweat and goblins? They're the last things I would want to smell when looking for a child…" Bilbo sighed heavily. "And it makes my heart sink to think that blood, sweat and goblins mean we're on the right track."

"Hear, hear." Merry muttered, before stepping into the tunnel.

Frodo followed immediately, allowing Bilbo to take the rear. While the immense cavern behind them had its own lighting, the tunnel they had chosen to plunge into was utterly dark, with the sole exception of the bright orange flicker of their torches. As they walked on, the tunnel got smaller and smaller, until they were all but crawling on their hands and knees.

Frodo felt his breathing quicken slightly as claustrophobia loomed over him, but he forced himself to breathe deeply and keep moving.

"Do you see anything?" He asked Merry in a hushed tone.

"Nothing but darkness and damp. Oh, look, there's another Arkenstone!"

"What?" Bilbo asked sharply and Merry sniggered. Bilbo sighed with irritation. "Meriadoc Brandybuck-"

"I'm sorry, Bilbo. Just trying to diffuse the tension."

"Well you didn't do a very good job of it." Bilbo snapped, and Merry hung his head slightly.

Frodo shook his head and pressed on until Merry stopped still. "Oh..."

"What?" Frodo cried. The tunnel was too small for him to peek around Merry, so when his cousin did not answer, he repeated the question. "What is it, Merry, what's wrong?"

"It's a child..." Merry murmured, bending down.

Holding his torch over Merry's sandy head, Frodo could see a tiny, emaciated dwarfling curled in on himself on the floor and his heart sank.

The boy's hair was matted with blood and his entire body was bruised and scraped, but when Merry checked for a pulse the boy took a gasping breath, his eyes flying open.

"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you-" Merry began, but the boy's eyes were filled with terror and he struggled desperately to sit up.

"Please!" The child rasped, before coughing violently. "Please, I can still work!"

"Work? What are you talking about?" Merry frowned, but his calm tone seemed to upset the boy more and he burst into tears.

"Oh-oh, p-please d-d-don't, I'm sorry I r-r-ran!"

"Hey, hey, we're not going to hurt you." Merry soothed, and Frodo took a small step back to give the dwarfling some space. "Where are you running from?"

The boy let out a small wail. "I'm s-sorry, I'll go b-b-back-"

"I don't want you to go back-" Merry started, and the boy wailed louder. Frodo was about to interrupt Merry, worried that he was making things worse, when his cousin asked. "Where're your parents?"

"My...my what?" The boy sniffed, looking surprised.

"Your parents." Merry repeated softly. "Your Amad and Adad, who are they?"

Slowly, the boy sniffed. "You're...you're not goblins?"

Merry huffed, putting his hands on his hips. "We most certainly are not! Filthy creatures, goblins! No, we're hobbits."

"Like Bilbo Baggins?" The boy whispered, the abject terror in his eyes ebbing away to simple fear.

"I am Bilbo Baggins." Bilbo mentioned softly, waving over Frodo's shoulder, and the boy's eyes widened in a mixture of wonder and horror.

"Why are you working for the goblins?" The boy cried, curling in on himself again.

"We're not working for any goblins!" Merry replied indignantly. "We're here to look for clues."

"Clues?"

"Did you know a little boy called Oden?"

The boy gasped. "He...he escaped?"

Frodo's heart twisted painfully and Merry swallowed. "He…uh…Almost. He almost escaped."

Fresh tears glistened in the boy's eyes, but his rasping voice was as strong as they had ever heard it. "You came down to look for us?"

Merry smiled. "We weren't sure what we were looking for, we were trying to find out where he came from."

"There are more of you?" Frodo asked gently and the boy nodded suspiciously.

"B-back there…"

"How many more?" Bilbo asked quietly.

The boy's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know…I don't know my numbers!"

Frodo felt another surge of pity fill his heart. "Can you tell us if there are lots?"

"Lots and lots…" he nodded with a sob, before concentrating. "Strawberries."

"What?" Merry frowned.

"There are more children than there are pips on a strawberry. And there are more goblins than children, and more come every day!" the boy started to cry again.

"More of who come every day? What are you doing down here?" Merry asked.

"Both!" the boy whispered, cringing away from Merry again. "I-I can't tell you! If I t-t-t-tell you they'll kill me!"

"You're safe now." Merry promised, reaching out to take the boy's shackled hands. "Now, I don't have anything I could use to get these off with me, but I know some people who can."

"The others, the others aren't safe!"

"Alright…" Bilbo said quietly. "What's your name?"

The boy blinked, as if he had never been asked such a question. "My…my name?"

"Yes, your name?"

An uncomfortable sense of déjà vu tingled down Frodo's spine as he watched the little boy's eyes light up.

_"You were not so very different from a hobbit once, were you... Sméagol?" he asked, watching the creature careful. _

_"What did you call me?" it hissed. _

_"That was your name once, wasn't it? A long time ago." Frodo edged. _

_The creature's eyes lit up. "My name... My name... S... S...Sméagol…"_

"My name, my name!" the little boy laughed in the same hoarse manner in which he spoke. "I had a name, once, I had name!"

"What was it?" Frodo asked, and the child blinked shyly.

"Binni…" the little boy offered warily.

"Well then, Binni," Bilbo smiled over Frodo's shoulder. "This is my friend Merry, he's going to take you back into the city, and Frodo and I are going to scout ahead and get some information so that we can all help all of the other children, alright?"

The little boy nodded shyly.

"Can you do that, Merry?" Bilbo asked quietly, and the young hobbit nodded.

"Of course." He shuffled forward, opening his arms to Binni.

With fearful reluctance the boy slipped into Merry's arms and the youngest hobbit stood up, before laughing as he tried to manoeuvre around Frodo without any space to do so.

Frodo could hear Merry chatting gently to the child as he disappeared down the tunnel.

"What do you think the goblins are doing with the children?" he asked Bilbo quietly.

"I don't think I want to know…" Bilbo put a hand on Frodo's shoulder, as much for his own comfort as for Frodo's. "Let's go."

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Thorin sighed. "So Bilbo and Frodo still aren't back?"

"No…" Ori nodded.

"How did Bombur take the news?"

"Well enough…" Ori murmured, "I told him all that we know."

"The boy, Binni, has he woken up yet?" the king asked.

"No, he hasn't." Ori shook his head regretfully.

"But the healers say he will live?"

"They are fairly certain that he will live."

Thorin took a deep breath, feeling a little relieved. "Do we know where his parents are?"

"I don't think that they're in Erebor." Ori admitted. "If they were, they would have come forward. But on the list of children that died in the Blue Hills, there is the name Kobinn, son Kovu…"

"Binni is a popular nickname for Kobinn." Thorin nodded. "Have you sent word to the Blue Mountains?"

"Not yet." Ori shook his head. "I'll get someone to do that right away."

Thorin nodded. "Yes, do. What about the other children, how are they doing?"

"Well it's been less than two days since we switched the water but we haven't lost any of them since. In fact, some of them seem to be getting better, according to Iona." Ori informed the king.

"That is good news." Thorin ran a hand over his jaw. "How is Nala?"

"Bombur says that she is stable, not better, not worse."

Thorin nodded. "Thank you, Ori."

Ori bowed and left the room. The king watched the scribe's retreating back, and sighed, wondering if he might be able to catch a few minutes rest.

"Thorin! Thorin!"

Or not.

"Fíli, what is the matter?" Thorin frowned as his nephew ran towards him in a very undignified manner.

"Bilbo and Frodo, they're back!" Fíli panted. "It's bad!"

He followed Fíli back through the halls of Erebor and pushed his way through the crowd gathering around the two hobbits. His eyes widened as he saw Bofur rushing in to take Bilbo off of Frodo, who had been supporting his cousin's body weight.

"What happened?" Thorin demanded of anyone with answers.

"They just came out of that tunnel, that tunnel there!" A woman cried.

"Out of the way, get out of the way!" Bofur huffed, slinging an apparently unconscious Bilbo over his shoulder and racing towards the nearby healing halls.

"What happened?" Thorin turned to Frodo, who looked like he was in shock. Thinking quickly, Thorin grabbed Frodo's shoulder and jostled the hobbit into a nearby council room, slamming the door after Balin and Dwalin before turning to Frodo and repeating. "What happened?"

"Goblins!" Frodo's wide eyes were full of horror. "There are goblins down there, hundreds of them!"

"What?" Thorin cried. "In the city?"

"A few leagues under the city, under the Eastern side of the mountain." Frodo clarified, "And they have children, they have hundreds of children!"

"Hundreds?" Thorin's heart sank as his mind began to race.

Frodo nodded shakily.

"What are they doing with them, with the children?" Thorin demanded and Frodo closed his eyes with a shudder.

"They're using them as slaves." He said in a hollow tone.

"Slaves?" Thorin gaped.

"Yes, slaves." Frodo nodded desperately. "It's…it's bad, Thorin! There was nothing we could do against so many so we headed back, to get help…"

"Then what happened?" Thorin pressed when Frodo stopped.

"It must have been about three hours ago, we heard goblins coming towards us but there was nowhere to go. We tried to fight but Bilbo…they stabbed him!"

Thorin took a deep breath. "They stabbed him?"

Frodo nodded, looking utterly lost. "I all but carried him back."

"Alright…" Thorin rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Frodo, I need you to tell Balin everything you remember about the location of the children, any details that might help us in any way! Dwalin, go to the tunnel they emerged from and set up a guard, tell no one of what was said in this room, do you understand?"

All three of his companions bowed and Thorin swooped out of the room. If he had not been in full King mode before, he was now. Marching straight to the healing halls, Thorin burst through the doors.

"Where is he?" he demanded. "Where is our hobbit?"

One of the healers led him over. "He is unconscious, my lord, but I believe that he will live."

Thorin nodded. Though Bilbo was part of his company and makeshift family, he knew all that he needed to know to fulfil his duty as King, so he nodded at the healer. "The moment he wakes, or worsens, send word to me immediately."

"Yes, sire." The healer nodded, before scurrying off to do his duty.

Thorin walked down the hall and knocked on a nearby door.

"Nori."

"Sire." Nori bowed, recognising that Thorin would not break the age old tradition of leaving the family alone for five days without good cause.

"I am sorry to interrupt, Nori, but I need your expertise." Thorin announced gravelly. "Bilbo has been stabbed."

"What?" Nori hissed, taking a step out of the door.

"He will live," Thorin assured his friend. "Frodo has told me that there are children being kept down under the city by goblins, I need to see you and Dwalin and your Watchers in the main council room, as soon as you can-"

"Now," a soft voice said quietly, and Kára emerged from the shadows. "Nori can go now, your majesty."

"Are you sure?" Nori asked his wife quietly and she nodded.

It was the first time that Thorin had met or even seen Kára, daughter of Gunnar, but he did not have time for proper introduction. Instead he bowed deeply.

"Thank you, my lady."

She gave a little smile and nodded.

A couple of hours later Thorin was in the council room with the entire company with the exception of Bilbo, Bombur, Kíli and Legolas, and the additions of Thorin Stonehelm, several councillors and Merry.

"So…" Thorin finished. "That is what we know."

"So what's the plan?" Merry vocalised the question when the silence became too much to bear.

"Well…" Balin took a deep breath.

Suddenly the doors burst open and Caver raced in. "I'm s-sorry!"

"What's wrong?" Thorin ordered, and the young skin-changer swallowed.

"It's…well, it's Bilbo…"

**I hope you enjoyed that, please let me know! Also I uploaded a new story called Strangers Like Me, check it out if you like :)**

**PS, yes I was a little desperate with the chapter name, I wanted to get it up tonight :P **


	27. Chapter 27: God Bless the Child

**I'm so sorry this took so long – I've been really busy, my other story ****_Strangers Like Me _****REALLY took off, and also I got a severe case of the writers block. **

**I'm not particularly happy with the way this turned out, tbh, but if I don't upload it now I will just play with it for days without actually doing anything so I hope you find it satisfactory. **

**Read. Enjoy. Review. **

**Chapter Twenty Seven # God Bless The Child #**

_"This boy is hungry, he ain't got enough to eat  
That girl's cold and she ain't got no shoes on her feet_

When a child's spirit's broken  
And feels all hope is gone  
God help them find the strength to carry on

But with hope and faith  
Yea, we can understand  
All God's children need is love  
And us to hold their little hands." Shania Twain, God Bless the Child

"What happened?" Thorin demanded, and the young skin changer swallowed.

"He's awake, Bilbo is awake, but he's babbling all over the place about Frodo and goblins and slaves and all sorts and the healer's say he seems delirious!" Caver finished in one breath. "The healer's said to send word to you immediately."

Thorin nodded, feeling intensely relieved. . "Alright. Frodo, Óin, go to Bilbo, keep things quiet until we have a plan, am I understood?"

The two he had addressed bowed and scurried away, and he turned back to Dwalin and Nori, who were looking at each other. "Do you have any idea what would be the best way to proceed?"

"Well, the tunnels our hobbits travelled down are impassable for dwarves which is why they went down in the first place, but we could follow the water supply back to the cavern where the water all comes from and trace the tunnels from there. It would be a tight fit, but we could do it." Balin supposed.

"I think it would be wiser to send in the Watchers first, then the army behind them. If we're lucky and we act fast we may just get the element of surprise in there…" Nori volunteered, years of coordinating with Dwalin informing him how best to utilise their assets.

"A full on assault may be necessary, though." Dwalin added darkly. "From what Frodo says the filthy goblins have quite the establishment, they won't go down without a fight."

Thorin nodded thoughtfully and Balin added. "It would be wise to leave some guards here, in case of a surprise attack on those that can't fight."

"Agreed." Thorin nodded, musing over the maps. "We must come up with a way of getting the children out before the fighting begins."

"Aye, and that'll be tricky." Balin muttered.

Thorin watched as Nori and Dwalin exchanged glances.

"Well then, what are we waiting for?"

The plan was simple enough, and as Nori crouched in a dingy tunnel, peeking into a dimly lit cavern filled with hundreds of slaving children, he decided that the simplicity was golden.

A tap to his shoulder let him know that it was time, and he shifted a little so that he was visible to the nearest dwarfling, without putting himself in the goblin's line of vision.

"Pst!" He hissed, bouncing a little pebble down to the tiny girl's feet.

She jumped fearfully but mercifully she did not scream.

"Hey, little one, it's alright!" He whispered with a comforting smile. "My name's Nori - don't scream! Please don't scream!"

Backing away from the starry haired dwarf, the girl started to shake, and Nori eyed the chains around her ankles.

"How about we get you out of here, hey lassie?"

Whimpering in fear, the girl sent a glance over to the goblins, who were being successfully distracted by a team of watchers - though the stupid creatures were yet to realise that the reflections flying around the roof that they tried to shoot were not made by their own chain mail but by the mirrors of Nori's most nimble watchers.

"It's alright, we're here to rescue you!" Nori smiled softly.

"Rescue?" The girl rasped, and Nori nodded.

"There are lots of us here, all dwarves, and we're going to get you all back to safety, alright?" He held his breath as the girl hesitated.

One of the plans major weaknesses was that it relied largely on the decisions of the children, whose actions they could not predict by any means. If she screamed, ignored him or even waited too long, the entire plan could crumble around their ears and they would not be the only ones to die.

"Promise?" She whispered, glancing over at her goblin captors. "Promise you're going to help us? Promise you won't hurt us?"

"I promise." Nori swore with a smile, and she swallowed.

Glancing over her shoulder again she shivered. "What must I do?"

Nori beamed, offering her his hand discreetly. "Can you come over here, really quietly, that's it...Good girl!"

As she shuffled over, Nori remained very still.

"Good girl..." He repeated soothingly. "Now, don't be afraid, but my friends are right behind me. We're going to get these chains off of you..."

"They're attached to everyone else." She whimpered, and Nori nodded, gently showing her the bolt cutters.

"We're going to get you all out of here. All of you. You don't have to be afraid." Nori murmured as he sliced through chain, lifting the girl up off of the floor gently, before turning to pass her to the dwarf behind him. As she was passed from dwarf to dwarf along the line towards safety, Nori peered out. Just like he had hoped, the next boy in line had noticed his peer's absence, and their luck seemed to hold as he met Nori's gaze.

"Master Nori?" the boy gasped quietly, and Nori recognised him in an instant as the Refrin, son of one of the watchers.

"Hello, laddie! Shh, there's a good lad, Refrin." Nori beckoned him over, and the boy staggered across in an instant.

"Are you here to rescue us?" the boy lisped hopefully, and Nori nodded.

"We are…" Taking the little boy into the cave, Nori signalled to the watchers on the other side of the goblins' makeshift mine to start the larger distractions.

It was time to get these children out of this hellhole.

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Sam rocked Eleanor in his arms as he walked with Rosie around the outskirts of Dale. The entire business with the dwarves and the plagues and the children was really quite horrible to be so close to, and he realised with a start that this was the first time he had ever been alone with his wife and daughter, while Beregond lingered in the city of Dale.

That was not the usual hobbit way, not at all.

"What's that?" Rosie asked softly, her hand on Sam's arm. "Sam, what's that?"

Sam frowned in the direction she pointed, squinting at the little figure running out of the mountain towards them. "I'm not sure. It looks like a child…Where did he come from?"

"There's more coming!" Rosie pointed out as two dozen other figures joined the first, followed by larger figures, and Sam's heart fell.

"Goblins!" he turned, grabbing the dagger from his belt. "Run into the city, get Beregond, get the guards!"

"Sam!" Rosie pleaded quietly, but he kissed the top of her head and shook his own.

"They're children, Rosie, and they're being chased by goblins!" he insisted, running towards them as Rosie fled back into the city.

The nearest child screamed and flinched away from him, but he pushed the boy aside.

"Run!" he yelled at the child, and it did not take long for the other dwarflings to realise that Sam was friend not foe, and they ran straight towards him.

Wondering why on earth he thought that he could run at these goblins and survive, Sam felt slightly heartened by the fear on their faces. At least they _thought _that he could do some damage.

To his relief, he could hear the guards of Dale making war cries behind him, and they ran much faster than he did, meaning that they reached the goblins chasing the children before he had to do much more than swing his sword once.

He turned back and looked into Dale, where the shocked citizens were gathering the dwarf children to the town square. He glanced back at the children with confusion.

They were gaunt, they were pale and they were covered in scrapes and bruises.

_What was going on in that lonely, Lonely Mountain? _

_~ The Hobbit ~_

Kíli sighed.

His room was so quiet, and the silence reminded him of how he should be deep in the city with his brother and mother and uncle and friends, saving the children and slaying their enemies. Despite what his peers seemed to believe, Kíli was not an invalid.

Aching, wounded, weak and exhausted, yes, but invalid, no. He could help.

He _would_ help, there had to be something he could do. Gritting his teeth with determination, Kíli pushed himself up out of bed and reached for the stick he had been given to help him walk.

As he staggered to the door, he leant heavily on the stick, marvelling at the pain shooting through every limb.

The moment he reached the doorway, a startled scream reached his ears and he froze. The next door down the hall burst open and Dana looked out at him.

"My lord Kíli, what's going on?" she asked, concern painted on her face.

"I have no idea," Kíli admitted, struggling to move down the hall. "Who is in that room, the last room in the wing – that sounds like that's where the scream came from."

Dana sighed. "That's where they put Aria. All four of her children were stricken by the sickness, and five days ago the littlest one, I believe his name was Torren, passed away. She hasn't let go of the body since, but it sounds like she just lost another…"

The door at the end burst open and a frantic dwarf woman appeared. She looked like the definition of a grieving mother – her eyes were sunken and smudged with dark eyes, her clothes hung loosely on her skinny frame and her complexion was pale and lifeless.

"I need a healer, I need a healer now!" she screamed, and suddenly Kíli was pushed back into his room by a bustling group of healers.

Hissing as he crashed to the floor, Kíli tried to prop himself up. "What's happening?"

Dana gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth as whatever news was being told reached her ears, but she noticed Kíli on the floor and bustled over to help him.

"What's going on?" Kíli repeated, and Dana looked at him with wide eyes.

"Torren woke up!"

Kíli frowned. "You said he was dead?"

"He was!" Dana replied shakily. "Oh, by the Valar, what's happening to us?"

"There's an elf, an elf at the door of the mountain!" a young guard ran into the bustling room. "He says he has to speak to one of Thorin's company, he says it's important."

"They are all busy-"

"Not they are not." Kíli gritted his teeth firmly, allowing Dana to help him up. "I will go. Is it Legolas?"

The guard nodded, and Kíli motioned with his head.

"Kíli, Thorin said that you weren't to leave your bed." Dana reminded him gently.

"Well Thorin is busy." Kíli pulled his shoulders back and lifted his chin up, injecting all of the majesty that he could into his voice. "So let's go."

To his great pleasure, he managed to walk to the great gates of Erebor with no more than a limp. It was true, agony shot up his leg and through his chest and arms, but at least he was there.

He nodded at the gate guards, a thrill of power running up his spine as the gate opened.

Legolas was standing outside with a huge crowd assembled behind him, and he bowed deeply.

"Kíli."

"Legolas." Kíli inclined his head, remembering the politics lessons he had been forced to take with Balin as a child.

"I have news from my father, but more importantly fifty children just arrived in Dale. They said that the rescuers told them to run."

"Our children?" Kíli realised instantly, and Legolas nodded.

Kíli looked at the crowd behind him, and the dozens of frightened looking children behind the elf.

"Dale were more than happy to host them, but we supposed that you would like to see them home?" Legolas stepped aside slightly and Kíli nodded.

"Thank you. Guards! Escort the children up to the Healing Rooms, quickly, make sure they're all safe and all looked after!" Kíli ordered, trying to think on his feet. "And fire up the kitchens, get them to make enough food for all of them."

Instantly, the guards stepped forward but the children shied away and Kíli groaned internally. He was so stupid. These children, if they had indeed come from the mountain, had been enslaved by goblins, the last thing they needed was to be surrounded by scary looking guards.

"Wait!" he called. "Take off you helmets…and just wait!"

Limping heavily, Kíli stepped out of the mountain and crouched down next to the closest child, a little girl who looked less than happy to be at the front and who was not even as tall as Kíli's waist.

"Hello, what's your name?"

The girl cringed away but answered quietly. "Eir, at your service."

"It's very nice to meet you, Eir." Kíli smiled gently. "I am Kíli, prince of Erebor. You're safe now, alright? These guards are going to make sure that you stay safe, I promise."

"You're the prince?" she whispered with wide eyed awe, and Kíli nodded. "Why would a prince help us?"

"Because you're all very special." Kíli smiled back, trying and failing to stand.

Legolas quickly came to his aid, putting a hand on Kíli's arm and pulling him up.

"Thank you…" Kíli nodded gratefully at his friend, before offering Eir his hand. "Will you come into the mountain with me?"

Slowly the tiny girl nodded, slipping her hand into Kíli's.

Kíli looked at Legolas pointedly. "Meet me in the war room in half an hour."

"Your highness-" one of Dain's – no, _Thorin's _– counsellors protested, but Kíli silenced him with one of his uncle's infamous glares.

"He will meet me in the war room in half an hour." He repeated in a dangerous voice. "As soon as I have led these children to the healing halls."

By the time the young prince had led the children to the Healing Halls, delivered them safely to the healers and arrived in the War Room, he was just about ready to collapse.

_Maybe Amad was right…_he thought miserably as he leant against the door to the war room. _I should have stayed in bed. _

"Your highness!"

_Oh, great…_Kíli's thoughts grumbled as the counsellor from earlier marched up to him. "Yes, Njord?"

"With the greatest of respect, your highness, you are second in line to the throne – you are not the king and you are too young to make decisions as great as letting an elf into the mountain!"

Clenching his teeth against the pain, Kíli replied roughly. "With the greatest of respect, Njord, I know Legolas far better than I know you, and I trust him far better too. My uncle will not begrudge me this visit."

Pushing open the door to stop the counsellors next words in a way that would make Fíli cringe, Kíli greeted Legolas with a smile before staggering dangerously. The elf caught him again, helping him into a chair.

"Are you al-"

"I am fine." Kíli growled, before lightening his tone. "What did you have to tell me?"

"When your people started sourcing water from Dale, we guessed that it had something to do with the situation within the mountain, so I had my father test the water that Caver brought back from Erebor." Legolas said gravely. "I hope I did not cross any boundries – I did not tell him what it was for, though I guess that he knew."

"Go on, Legolas." Kíli urged, and the elf noded.

"During the tests my father discovered traces of a herb that was commonly known as Loímona."

"Commonly?" Kíli frowned.

"I said _was commonly _ – my father has not seen it in over two thousand years. When ingested in high doses it sends the consumer into a death like sleep from which they will not stir for around a week. Dwarves, the sturdy race that you are, develop immunity around the cusp of adulthood."

"So the water was poisoned!" Kíli hissed. "Who would do this?"

"I know not." Legolas mourned. "I have told you all that I know."

"Thank you." Kíli nodded, massaging his temple. _Thorin, where are you? _

"Are you alright?" Legolas asked with concern, and Kíli shook his pounding head.

"Not particularly, but I'll live. I feel like I've been stampeded by Oliphants."

Legolas did not laugh. "You should get back to bed, Kíli. You look awful."

Kíli sighed. "That may be a little difficult. I think I'll fall apart if I move."

"Stubborn dwarf."

"Demeaning elf."

**Urgh. **


End file.
